Original subtitles

Subtitles by explosiveskull

I'm gonna tell you a story.

Not just any old story.

The story is about a man.

A man on a mission.

A man that possesses an alien proclivity

for the complex physics necessary to move a body

in calculated and unnatural ways through space.

Ha. Just kidding.

It ain't that kind of story.

It's a tale of four snowboarders.

The young gun,

the veteran,

some chick,

and this other guy.

Hello.

The story starts in a place that, well,

I'd be lying to you if it wasn't

some straight out of what you might call fairytale.

I'm not kidding.

Who am I to say?

There could be thousands of fairies in these woods.

Certainly, used to be thousands of salmon

that would travel half the continent upstrem from the Pacific

just to spawn on these waters.

It's a little place deep

in the interior of British Columbia.

A place they call Galena.

Far from civilization,

but about as close to heaven as you can get in this world.

A place that during this time of the year,

and nearly always, is shrouded in cloud and fog.

Rock and earth stand snow-capped like great cathedrals.

I should tell you, Mother Nature still rules

this part of the world.

And below that thick, shrouded clouds, well,

that's where she had some of her most

intricate works of art.

She's quite the Picasso, I'll say.

She paints in broad, heavy white brush strokes.

And the weather had to be just right,

not too hot, not too cold,

or these delicate little snowflakes

couldn't stack up just right.

Well, lucky for our heroes here,

this winter turned out to be perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

It was a field of dreams.

Which is why these fellows called them "pillows" I suppose.

Funny choice of words, I'd say,

since watching them riding down these things

looked more like a bar fight than a good night sleep.

Now, it's not all just about bar fighting

down a pillow stack around here.

If a man wants to draw a lone line through a quiet forest,

by all means he can.

I don't often show folks this place,

I've grown quite weary of strangers,

but I can tell by the look on their faces

they were different.

I've felt drawn to show it to 'em.

And, who am I exactly?

Well, we'll get to that.

I've been in Galena a long time.

Just think of me as the steward of this land.

And if you listen close enough,

you, like them, might learn that

there's a lot more going on here than meets the eye.

Now, before I head down the road

of this long and endless story, and I assure you,

it is the most endless of roads,

I should tell you how these folks came to be

in this part of the world,

for it wasn't by some random act of chance.

No, it was most definitely an act of faith.

Nine, nine, nine!

Austen Sweetin.

Friends call him "Sweet Tea", "Sweet and Low".

Fire monkey of a kid.

In the good year of 1999,

on this particular day, his life would change forever.

Are you kidding me?

In "The Birdman's" precisely

two and a half rotations,

Austen saw a glimpse of his own true potential.

This is the best day of my life.

His infatuation with skateboarding grew

until it could no longer be contained withinin the limits

of the concrete jungle.

So he turned his sights upwards.

Bryan Fox. Like most San Diegans,

he grew up with an afinity for punk-rock music

and the Pacific Ocean.

By the young age of six he had become the Anthony Bourdain

of local burritos.

By the age of nine he'd mastered the art

of drawing a perfect barreling wave.

A right of passage and a skill he still maintains today.

And then there's Robin. Robin Van Gyn.

Kind of like the female version of Jean Claude Van Damme.

She takes the meaning of all-natural to a level

only countered by the original hunter-gatherers.

While her female counterparts elsewhere

bragged about how much green juice

they bought from the farmer's market,

well, Robin was out here making her own.

Robin's the kind of girl that folks in Los Angeles

name their boutique shops after,

like yarn and cider, or lace and log.

And, yet, she absolutely cuts her own logs.

You ever heard of a guy named Travis Rice?

A fella whose stories are that of fable and lore.

Fire in his eyes and dragon stone for balls.

Myth has it he surfed a flaming asteroid

across the Milky Way just to land on this planet.

And, yeah, he's stomping.

Howdy.

But, what about the sensitive side of Travis?

Do you ever think about that?

Sure he has one.

Even the toughest dragons have soft spots

on their tender, little underbellies.

Never before has man lived so entranced

by the microscopic details of life.

A long, slow stretch with no pants on.

Soft, luxurious feel of an exquisitely tailored house coat.

I mean, kimono.

The subtle perfection of a simple meal

shares in harmonious silence with loved ones.

It's the little things in life that fill his soul,

like watching a glorious sunset while a warm breeze

blows through his fabulous flowing hair

like a playful kitten.

Hell, his reverence for the mysteries of nature run so deep

even animals are tamed in his presence.

Ernie, you're the only one that understands me.

Our friends here were embarking on a journey

into the thralls of winter.

And what a winter it was becoming.

It's deep.

I'm only five foot three, but,

shit, it's three and a half feet, bottomless.

Finishing my calculus equations,

I think the formula is gonna prove correct.

See these snowflakes?

Beautiful little things.

But, where do you think they come from?

I bet your answer is clouds.

Hah. Clouds.

Now, I'm not gonna lecture you,

but it's a bit more than just clouds.

You see, there is a thin vale air stiring above us

like the vast currents of the Pacific.

The great aerial ocean.

And Galena is situated quite perfectly beneath it.

This season, the great ocean delivered the perfect mixture

to provide months of snowfall of the highest consistency.

This constant sprinkling happens to be

the perfect ingredient for one of nature's

rare snow formations:

fluted spine.

When the sun finally does come out

they're quite the sight to look at.

Hey, Travis, I think we have storm coming.

Well, hallelujah.

Nestled amongst the great forest

and handcrafted from a few fallen cedar trees,

lay the tiniest of tiny cabins.

Here, Austen, Robin and their not-so-tiny Labrador, Stella,

had decided to hunker down and wait out the storm.

Austen, I think we need some more wood.

More wood? I got some tiny logs.

Great!

Bein' it was such a tiny cabin

the two became accustomed to tiny things.

Too big.

Each piece of tiny kindling could be

no longer than two inches,

but this story takes place in Canada,

so that is precisely 5.08 tiny centimeters.

And once the room was nice and hot,

well, they played tiny little jams.

♪ Tiny house man in a tiny house land

♪ That played his amplifier in a tiny house band

♪ I was playing my guitar but it was too big

♪ So I got a tiny one, that's how I live

Every morning Austen would prepare coffee

in the tiny cabin.

This daily regimen required the following:

two miniature silver spoons,

two mugs with the gross capacity of two ounces,

and a tiny jar of milk that was sourced

from dwarf cows in Nova Scotia.

And, of course, the beans, tiny beans of joy.

And Austen was incredibly particular

about these little beans.

When the coffee was finally done

the two toasted to good tiding,

for they knew that, eventually, storm would clear.

And outside that cabin was a world

that was anything but tiny.

Come on, sun!

Shine!

We need you!

We want you!

Damn, you! Don't raise down!

Hallelujah!

Fucking big tank.

Big tank!

The unique terrain draws people here.

There's no doubt about that.

But it's the timber that's attracted most of the attention,

'cause these aren't your regular strands of trees.

Nothing better than a walk in nature.

These trees are over 1,000 years old.

And that's school, politic and counted.

They counted the rings.

The beauty of that.

How can you just not fucking love it?

Look at that cedar tree. A monster.

God's country.

Nothing better, nothing bigger.

God's country, perhaps.

Undisturbed by glacier, wildfire or man,

these forests stand as time capsules.

The old grove.

But, you see, there's old and then there's ancient.

Up the head waters of the Incomappleux River

lies a particular growth I'd like to tell you about.

Down from the alpine to the bio-geo-climatic zones

of the vertically integrated ecosystem

lay one of the last ancient forests in all of Galena.

Better said, one of the best tree runs of these riders' lives.

It's hard not to love a forest,

but a forest as grand as this,

well, that's a whole other kind of love story.

Western red cedars,

that's what makes up most of this ancient forest.

Some grow as old as 2,000 years

and measure 35 feet round.

Some big fucking trees.

Beneath these antiquated canopies

thrives a metropolis.

Everyone knows there's a root system

that anchors these trees in place.

What if I told you there's communication here?

I'd even go as far to call it intelligence.

The oldest of these giants

passing on what they know to their young.

Save garden knowledge and wisdom to keep a forest alive.

Yes, these trees talk.

Behold, the nervous system of the valley.

Oh!

Whoa! Yeah!

Watch out for the dead spike in there.

Oh, gosh!

Oh, my goodness. It's crazy.

Oh!

Crazy people.

Nobody has any respect for their body. It's a temple.

Your body is a temple.

So, it's very nice.

As long as I could see 10 feet from me, victory.

Travis Rice.

Probably doing something questionable.

A-grade high-quality H2O powder.

Ha!

Whooo!

Yeah!

Every once in a while,

man comes along as well just a little bit different.

I'm talking about the kind of difference

that makes a man hike alone to the woods

with a 183-centimeter pink snowboard on his back.

Bryan fondly named his companion "Big Pink",

on the account of her sheer girth and prowess.

It towers above the rest of Bryan's well-manicured quiver

like a champion Clydesdale among its tall opponents.

And with a trusty see like "Big Pink"

Bryan felt compelled to explore the mysteries of Galena.

Seems he had an unquenchable desire to seek out

only the finest geothermal heated waters,

hot springs, for the lay man.

Temperature of these springs must be

exactly 101 degrees Fahrenheit,

with the Ph balance of 7.55,

and at least 1,000 parts per million of dissolved minerals

such as calcium, iron and lithium.

But Bryan infatuation with hot springs

is nothing compared to his real obsession.

Over his lifetime Bryan claims he's successfully summited

over 400 mountains peaks around the world.

421 to be exact.

Most of non-notable status.

That was...

Whoa.

Can you see it?

That was a lot deeper than I thought.

It's a long way down from that top.

Yeah.

Some humans seem like they are born

with a deep desire to understand the

natural world around 'em.

And, in a place like this,

there's a lot going on that needs to be understood.

Hi, my name is John Buffery.

You can call me "Buff".

And I'm snowboard guide.

Actually, he's much more

than just the snowboard guide.

When it comes to the art of snow evaluation

and risk assessment, he's a verified snow Yoda.

Over the past three decades he's lead guiding missions

all over the planet.

He's even been shot at.

One time on a bad country trip

near the Shah's mountain palace

the Iranian Royal Guard mistook him for a spy.

What are you looking for there, Buff?

Instability in the layers?

Yep. That's absolutely correct.

Behold what a master carries in his pack.

Part of the job of the snow jedis

is to assess the safety of the snowpack,

and he's got quite the magic touch.

Hey, Buff, it's Travis.

Go ahead, this is Buff, Travis.

I'm in a really good spot response,

and I like what I'm seeing.

When Buff's not guiding

he's in his office at the Ministry of Transport

using his snow sensei brain to mitigate

avalanche dangers on the Trans-Canada Highway.

And, yes, he still has his first avalanche beacon.

Buff has over 200 notebooks of field notes.

Decades of detailed observations about weather conditions,

base camp logistics, temperature,

and snowpacks ability fill their pages.

"Why is all this important", you ask?

Well, you see, only with time and experience

does one learn how to read the mountains

the way John Buffery does.

And everyone can use a good shepherd,

especially around these parts.

These are cornices.

By wind-driven snow they form into school bus-sized

doomsday devices that can be hair triggered.

Surprisingly, cornices and avalanches

aren't the deadliest hazards out here.

In fact, it's the tree wells

you should be most concerned about.

Usually one can't get out alone,

and that's why the buddy system is always in place out here.

Take a look at these buddies,

sword fighting down the mountain like a bunch of idiots.

Complete disregard of their own safety.

However, if you find yourself trapped

in the mountains for the night.

The tree well can become a life saving shelter.

Tea?

Oh, yeah.

I think around the wide is probably the hottest spot.

The top slope is gonna be gone into the chutes,

so you're not gonna have to worry about it.

If you have to stop let the snow go through it,

don't go fast.

Do you think that's 3,000 T to V, top to valley?

Yeah. Oh, yeah.

It's all quite within your realms of management.

Alright, man. Feels like you're best in here,

- and look at it any longer. - Yeah.

Get ready.

We are ready.

And I feel pretty good to continue.

Be on ridge, just watch the transitioning.

I've always had a fondness for these giants.

I'm talking about the land, of course.

By land I mean all this.

Galena holds quite the collection, I'd say.

Not many things you can fear and be in reverence of,

all at the same time.

It took quite some years for this place to look this way.

It's all being washed over by Mother's

great saline quilt at one point.

Still changing, too, right before your eyes.

You can't see it,

this is just a snapshot of a painting

that's a work in progress, if you will.

Because the perception of time is different

for everything on this planet,

I'm trying to explain to you the concept of time.

Hell, that's a rabbit hole, if I've ever seen one.

One thing is for certain,

current state of this painting, this land,

is about as full of abstracts and oddities

as one could imagine.

And our friends sure do love those oddities.

Take this arch, for example.

Right conditions of wind, rain and soft-pocketed limestone

and these guys just about lost their shit.

They were so excited it'd never been ridden before

they rode it together like brothers.

Let's have some fun, buddy.

They named it "Tunnel buddy",

whatever the hell that means.

It's said that every line has it's day.

Hey, guys. Dropping ahead, 10 seconds.

The thing is,

when you speak about the truly bizarre, the rarities,

that day can be a decade apart sometimes.

It comes down to right time, right place, I'll say.

Okay. Dropping.

Holy shit!

Alright. That was fun.

Whoa!

That was so savage.

I've lived here my entire life,

and I've seen everything.

And, see, we all talk to each other.

That's what makes you so different

than any other plant or animal on this planet.

We know our purpose here.

You probably wouldn't believe me if I said

I had everything to do with you.

Since I've got your attention,

I might as well tell you

how I came to be in this part of the world.

I was born in the time of King Arthur.

Fought for life as a seedling while the Roman Empire fell.

I grew from a sapling into a tree

as men sailed west in the searched of the undiscovered.

Irony is, there are already people here.

Had been for many millennia.

It was different then.

They had a deep connection to this land.

I had a family around me that protected me

from avalanches and tumbling rocks.

I was all that was left of them.

Here I stood while man built cities and great things.

Oh, what wondrous things you people create.

As men step down on the moon

I looked upward from here

and smiled of being a part of it all.

Which brings me to this moment here,

where my world and yours collide.

What a chance encounter.

It's not often enough that one of you take the time

to talk to one of us trees.

The day will come when I return to the soil

and start all over again.

It was my honor to give you all a little window

into what I've seen in this life.

I give you all the 900.

And I said that this story was an endless road,

and still assure you it is,

but before you leave this place

I'll share with you a secret.

Funny thing is.

You probably already know it.

You see, there is magic that exists all around you.

Stand still and take it in, like a child would.

Try to see past what you've been taught.

For I'm not really a tree.

Even though that's what you call me.

I just am.

That's closer to how we see it.

And if you search long enough

you might just find one of those fairies.

Ah!

Tiny House, Tiny Jam, take 1.

Action.

Do you want me to talk?

I have come to the forest to experience the world while I experience myself.

Thirty-one feet, one and a half inches.

Mr. Fox, what can I do for you?

- Let's do one two shoot. - I like it.

Usually winner goes first, right?

Travis Rice ladies and gentlemen, dropping first.

Thanks for watching! That's a wrap!

Here's the pillows.

Man, if I could shoot this from anywhere, I would be...

Just got the city boy out here. Is this a fisheye lens?

God's country. Nothing better, nothing bigger.

That's why we love it! That's why we live here!

- Yeah Niall. - Let's do this dude.

Subtitles by explosiveskull