A brisk November morning greeted the Minneapolis/St. Paul Dig My Quiver crew as they arrived at The House here in Little Canada, Minnesota. Neil, Paul, Scott, Steven, Kent and Tim make up a part of the MSP DMQ crew and gladly came into our shop for a full tour of our facility and some couch time to shoot the shit and plan out our day ahead of us.
For those not in the know, Dig My Quiver is a group of snowboarders whose mission is to dig everything that is snowboarding. Whether it’s trying out different shapes that break the industry norms or riding vintage decks they’ve come to collect over the years, Dig My Quiver rides to share their stories, adventures and to broadcast photos of their snowboard quivers. The Dig My Quiver community continues to encourage positivity to bring friends new and old to dig the stoke and bury the hate. Dig My Quiver started as a private Facebook group in 2011 launched by Chuck McLean which quickly grew into group that currently has 8,500+ members along with 14.7k followers on Instagram. Their social media has become a daily stop on the internet for boarders to share what they’re digging and what everyone else is digging as well. Like-minded people all gravitate toward the page for a true community of individuals who favor a similar path in snowboarding that has grown to an international family of rippers.
–MSP Dig My Quiver Members Paul Springer, Neil Bromenshenkel, Scott Kraker, Kent Post and Tim Grundei talk snowboarding with Guff-
After a tour of our warehouses, offices, hand shakes and shit talking, we all geared up and headed just 50 minutes north of the Twin Cities to the Holy Grail of snowboard resorts in the midwest, Trollhaugen. We all synced together in the upper parking lot, joined by Burton Minneapolis shop head and DMQ member, Eric Lewy, and long-time industry grinder, Tim Mackinzie, for some cold beverages and more shit talking. The parking lot was scattered with vintage decks that almost made me feel like I had time-traveled to some mid-90’s parking lot session. A mixture of Burton Airs, Brushie pro models, Burton Customs and a Terje pro model all lingered at my feet as I watched everyone collect each one of their desired decks and head under the Trollhaugen archway to start the day.
-Walking past the ticket counter at Trollhaugen this day must have caused some serious Deja Vu for some..-
The day continues with one ultimate goal in mind: riding your snowboard. Nothing else matters in the moment to these dudes. Just rip. We venture all around the Trollhaugen property finding the more organically molded freestyle terrain that the DMQ crew has grown up on and still prefers to ride over anything else. I bring these dudes to the west side of the hill where Bjorkedahl, a personal favorite run of mine, exists and waits quietly for us to stumble upon. Locals and old heads know it as the old half pipe run because, well, there used to be a half pipe there. A stunt ditch, if you will, that once existed with hand dug tombstone hits placed throughout two downhill vertical mounds of snow. Today the hill remains with just one wall of snow from a dug-out formation in the hill, but the fruits of the one sketchy mound remain plentiful to the DMQ dudes. An ice-coated wall of snow with a trail of rollers not far after has these dudes grinning ear to ear and leaves everyone saying, “Let’s do that one again.”
-Nate Vollmers and Eric Lewy. High levels of stoke-
The hot laps begin to go lukewarm, and as Tim Mackinzie checks his watch he claims its “Bloody Mary O’Clock.” Seems fair enough. The crew migrates to the Skolhaugen Lounge for some beverages and a hot meal to ease the stomachs of these old dog rippers. Tales are told across the table of their first experiences at Trollhaugen—stories of building jumps with nothing but their own snowboards and repeated visits of destruction from a ski patroller’s boot. Some of these tales date back to the ’80s. Neil Vollmers pulls up a photo of himself airing out of the deck of the old Bjorkedahl half pipe grabbing indy sometime during the 1991-1992 season. “I wasn’t even born yet,” was my audible response to which he chuckled and gave me a pat on the shoulder as if to remind me not to forget that. A round of shots is put in order via Guff, and everyone raises their tiny liquor-filled glasses and toasted to Dig My Quiver and to snowboarding.
The day dwindles down as the flat light begins to overcast the hill and the seemingly rotten orange glow of the hill that I have grown to love and cherish lights the trails across Trollhaugen. Sore knees and missed calls from the wives have the Dig My Quiver guys packing their bags and heading out for the evening but leaving with their goal met for the day, to ride their snowboards, which is always the end goal as it should be. After a day packed of riding chairs and corduroys with that crew, I continue to lap chairs the rest of the evening, skip the tow rope and remember that at the end of the day, it’s all about riding your snowboard.
-Ya Dig? Storebakken crew mob-