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Serge Dupraz; designing the future

"All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together." – Jack Kerouac He's an unassuming, happy rebel. A one-man army marching to the beat of his own drum. I mean, the guy is entirely impractical.
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"All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together."

– Jack Kerouac

He's an unassuming, happy rebel. A one-man army marching to the beat of his own drum. I mean, the guy is entirely impractical. He cares way more about creating fun new snowsliding tools than getting rich. And as for his, hmm... admittedly offbeat design ideas, well, let's just say they often leave him standing outside snowsports' mainstream gospel tent. Still, it's becoming increasingly evident that Frenchman Serge Dupraz is on to something... again.

I get to meet a lot of strange and wonderful people in my travels. But few have entertained me as much as this colourful Savoyard has. You see, for the last three weeks I've played Sancho Panza to Serge's Don Quixote. And it's been quite the ride — a four thousand-kilometre epic that's taken us to a dozen mountain resorts in three different countries. We've tilted at industry windmills, jousted with design clichés and saved fair maidens in the snow. We've skied, snowboarded — even paddled — our way through some of Europe's prettiest countryside. Sipped on priceless wines and dined at fine eateries. Eaten bad roadside sandwiches and had worse coffee. We've slept in chalets, chateaus and four-star Andorran hotels, even caught a few badly needed winks in a van in a ski area parking lot one night. And my impressions?

Dupraz is an artist; a quirky mountain genius whose main goal in life for the last thirty years has been to design stuff that makes snowplay, er, well, even more playful. "C'est tout pour le plaisir de la courbe," he tells me. Literally, it's all for the pleasure of the curve. "That's really what my design philosophy is about," continues the floppy-haired 51-year-old. "I just want people to have fun surfing the snow."

Maybe you've seen one of his pointy-nosed Dupraz boards on the mountain. It's usually on the feet of a longtime local, flashing down the hill on some gnarly offpiste slope at Mach 10. The folk who ride his D1's speak of them almost in awe. And with the same respect for their creator as big-wave surfers show the best shapers.

So who the heck is this Dupraz guy? And how did he manage to win the 2012 ISPO award for best new ski design? Wait a sec. Best new ski design? What is a roots rider like Dupraz doing making award-winning skis anyway? "I just thought it was time that skiers enjoyed some of the fruits of my thinking too," says Serge with that near-elfish twinkle in his eye. "But seriously. I just wanted to make some fun new ski designs..."

Hmm. The pre-eminent sporting-goods show on the planet, Munich's annual ISPO brings together thousands of manufacturers, distributors and retailers to showcase/discover all that's hot and new for the coming year. Awards aren't usually bestowed on upstart companies. But this past February — despite the best efforts of Salomon, Atomic, Fischer, Head and all the other big brands — Dupraz's little-company-that-could beat them all out for top prize. And with a huge-headed ski design so radically different from anything else on the market that you can't help but gape when you first see it. Talk about stepping out.

But challenging convention has been a way of life for Dupraz. You see, Serge's design philosophy is entirely steeped in practice — the guy's been playing with water and snow since he was knee-high to a chamois. "I had the best of both worlds," he tells me. "I grew up on the shores of Lake Léman, in Thonon-Les-Bains; I was in a sailboat from the moment I could walk. When winter came, our family's focus would switch to the mountains. There were probably a dozen ski resorts within a 30-minute drive of our house. My father was a very keen skier and he made sure his kids were too." He pauses. Shrugs. "Skiing was never a matter of choice — it was just part of our life."

Like most everyone living in Haute Savoie in those days, Serge took part in the local ski club program and learned to ski race with the other kids. But it was on the water where he really excelled. Enlisting his big brother Patrice as crew, the younger Dupraz quickly rose through the ranks of the local dinghy-sailing hierarchy. Racing in the very-competitive 420 class, the teenaged brothers became nearly invincible — rising to the very top of the national standings in France.

"He was a tough skipper to crew for," admits Patrice. "He was so meticulous. Such a perfectionist. But then, I don't think we would have reached the elite level without that attitude. When it came time to race, Serge was all in."

Racing was one thing. But getting to the regatta was quite another. "This was before much of the freeway system was established in France," remembers Serge. "And we were still pretty young in those days. Crossing the country on all these tight, little roads towing a boat trailer was a big deal for even an experienced driver. For us, it was a major adventure."

As competitive as it was, dinghy sailing wasn't quite edgy enough to hold the young racer's attention for long though. "I got the windsurfing bug around 1975," recounts Serge. "The idea of reducing the gear to such an elemental level really appealed to me. I loved the freedom it gave me. Loved the simplicity of it all."

Simplicity indeed. "Serge would still show up at regattas on his old windsurfer one-design long after everyone else had graduated to better and faster gear," remembers his boyhood friend Jean-Phil Ramain. "But he was such a good sailor that he'd still lead the fleet across the finish line."

In 1980, Dupraz decided to head to Oahu to immerse himself totally in his newfound passion. "There was so much going on there at the time," he explains. "It was the dawn of the short-board era. And design ideas were changing fast." In those days, all the hot sailors hung out in Oahu. So the 19-year-old Frenchman got to sail and brainstorm with such windsurfing heavyweights as Canadian David Ezzy, and Americans Craig Masonville and Jimmy Lewis.

And mishaps did happen. Serge holds the dubious distinction of being one of the first windsurfers to ever attempt sailing the shallow, vicious break off Oahu's Northshore. "The waves didn't look all that intimidating from the beach," he confides. "And I was pretty confident I could get going with the wind that was blowing that day." He was sadly wrong on both counts. "Wow. I still remember being in the water and watching the first set come my way. Suddenly the waves looked MUCH bigger than what I'd seen from the beach..." He smiles wanly. "And there was virtually no wind inside to get going and a really strong riptide besides..."

Dupraz never got to sail that day. "I just got pummeled," he says. And laughs. "Wave after wave after wave. No sooner would I get my act together – you know reposition my board, grab my rig – that another set would come through and I'd be swimming for my life again..."

As scary and humiliating as that first Northshore session was, it didn't quench the teenager's thirst for surfsailing. And when it came time to fly home six months later, Dupraz had discovered what he wanted to do with his life. "I shaped my first board at Ken Bradshaw's place," he tells me proudly. At the time, Bradshaw was the premiere surfboard shaper on the Northshore. Dupraz wasn't learning from just anybody...

Back home in France, Serge set up shop in a barn owned by his uncle and quickly went to work. "Hot Windboards", his initial venture in May of 1981, became the first custom board-shaping company in France. "I sponsored Jimmy Lewis's first trip to Europe," he reveals. "He shaped his first boards right here in my studio..."

Dupraz's timing was impressive. The 'funboard' craze had just hit Europe. Almost overnight, windsurfing had been transformed into the number one glisse sport on the continent. Suddenly the demand for Serge's Hot Windboards soared.

But surfing was coming to the mountains too. And Serge wasn't about to miss that ride either. You see, his dad was a keen powder skier and he'd initiated his kids to the joys of monoskiing early. Monoskiing? Really? "North Americans never really got the one-ski thing," laughs Serge. "But in the late '70s it was the way to ski powder in France. You know, fatter board, fewer edges, more surface to ride on, better floatation in the snow...." Whatever. When snowboarding first made its appearance in France a few years later, Serge was one of the few to see the light. He immediately converted to the sideways stance. As for making snowboards, well, it just seemed like a logical thing to do...

Given his aquatic connections, the first Hot Snowboards he produced were more akin to snow-surfing tools than skis. With their rubber-strap bindings (inspired by water ski designs) and edgeless, fat-bodied, swallow-tailed shapes, the Hot boards were a powder rider's dream-come-true. And in those days, says Serge, the Alps still delivered big powder years. "Snowboarding really was a different trip," he adds. "It brought a whole new culture to the mountains. A surfing culture. And I remember being so excited to be a part of it all. I couldn't wait to see what would happen..."

Next Week: Dupraz pushes the design limits of the new sport, becomes hugely successful with Hot, then gets disillusioned, drops out... and finally comes back with a revolutionary new 'artisanal' product.