Quinn Wolferman is a dynamo of high sport contemporaneity. An X Games gold medalist and Missoula, Montana native, the 26-year-old professional skier is hellbent on personal evolution—an evolution of nuance and risk-taking that will hopefully have a ripple effect on those in the community, those curious about the community, and the youngsters flying down the mountain at present, who may one day be its superstars like Wolferman is today.

We catch up in Aspen, CO with the skier as the 2024 season amasses, before he disappears into the Swiss Alps, the bowls of Utah, the crested peaks of Japan, where he will wow the crowds with his body slide worm turn 540s, his left nose butter double cork 1080 safeties, with his big smile, his kind disposition, and his openness to where this gravity-defiant journey may one day delightfully lead him.

You started skiing at age two with your mother. When was the lightbulb moment that this wasn’t a hobby, but a life path?‍

I was probably around nine, and I think I just told my mom, ‘Hey, I love skiing. This is what I want to do. This is what I’m going to work toward and nothing’s going to stop me.’ And then I started to miss too much school. I was a 15-year-old kid and made the decision: I’m going to leave my friends and family and everything behind. I’m not going to, like, go to prom. I’m not going to play organized sports— the things that shape somebody’s personality. I left to Utah the very next day.

And then, as I understand it, by 19, you started riding alongside other pro’s and scooped a few sponsorships? What do you envy about the previous ski generation?‍

I think what I am jealous of the most is actually just the pure rawness and infancy of the sport of extreme skiing or free skiing. You know, people taking shots of whiskey before their contest run, people adding more exciting music to their ski parts, and really pushing the boundaries of culture beyond skiing. There were no organizations, no Olympics, no coaches, everybody was kind of flying by the seat of their pants. It just looked like a very incredible time and something very special to be a part of.

What about your generation is unique or special?

You’re not limited to someone else making or breaking your career. You can get on your phone and promote yourself every single day if you want to. And I think the quicker that the young kids realize that they don’t actually have to follow all the rules anymore, I think there’s going to be a resurgence of that earlier generation—‘We don’t give a shit, we don’t need you, we’re going to do it our own way.’

What are your observations of what feels to be a peak moment— where art meets sport, music meets sport, fashion meets sport?

I love it. That’s definitely going to lead to more opportunities for younger generations. And I think also just the people that I looked up to, now being in LA, for instance, and creating opportunities for me to come out and surf and hang with people who are directors now and working on crazy, crazy projects. Like you start out and you’re filming, or you’re obsessed with the music—you never know where that could take you. 

You’re a professional athlete in 2023. How do you relate to masculinity?‍

I think, you know, growing up with a dad who is a complete badass manly man who works in the woods, you know, jumps out of airplanes [Wolferman’s father is a retired smokejumper for the US Forest Service], or my brother who hunts animals and is a complete badass as well—they have their definition, and I feel like I have created my own in a sense.

I’m very excited to show people that it’s okay to be kind and open and vulnerable. And people can mistake that for femininity or whatever they want. I think you have to test yourself, too—you have to put yourself in uncomfortable situations, because you don’t really know what kind of person you’re dealing with inside until you find yourself under pressure, or in an interesting outfit where hundreds of people on a ski mountain are looking at you... You can either not feel good in your own skin, or you can accept that and own that.

‍So ‘masculinity’ isn’t a dirty word—it’s about confidence and a state of mind?‍

I think that being masculine is a good thing. And I also think that just being very open is a good thing. And I think those previous generations were not open and that caused people to turn to drugs. That cost some people their lives as well. I think it’s important to be able to lean on your friends and tell them that you love them—give your friend a hug, kiss them on the cheek, man, because it doesn’t fucking matter—it’s okay. I think the more confident that people are in themselves, the more that’s going to rub off on other people. 

Let’s talk about a moment in your career where you feel you might have converted a weakness into strength?‍

Well, in May of 2017, just after that highlight year at 19 that I was telling you about, I was continuing to ride this high. It was just a roller coaster—up, up, up—eventually something’s gotta give. And I hit my head really, really hard at Mammoth. That was the darkest five to six months of my life. I had no balance. My vision was blurred. I couldn’t hold a conversation. Essentially, I would wake up every day and wish that I wasn’t here. I was still a teenager at that point, and I think that I would have continued to push for ‘spin to win,’ but that brain injury really slowed me down and made me think like, ‘What do I really want to do here?’ So I think it helped me lean into what I thought maybe was weaknesses at first, which was my attention to detail. It made me pay attention to those nuances that I actually had inside of me that maybe would have never come to the surface. I had to reinvent myself.

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So that meant more style and less grandiosity in your ski game, right? But also in your persona?

‍I want to have longevity. There’s not one single way to do things. And I think that’s what’s most important to me—to show people that you should lean into what maybe someone would call ‘weakness.’ Going back to the masculinity thing, today I walk into the lodge and, I’m wearing some crazy shit and the guy sitting next to the table we’re at looks at me—he told us he’s a project manager for construction and lives in rural Florida—and he’s like, ‘Man, you look bad ass! Your confidence is insane, man. Keep it up!’ I loved it. Anytime I can feel different is what makes me feel good. I love the new shit. 

Photographed by Ian Morrison

Styled by Monty Jackson at A-Frame Agency

Written by Matthew Bedard