The Starting Point

We arrived in Livigno with a foundation.

We were good riders. Not experts, but experienced. Each of us brought our own tricks—some solid from the past, some in progress, some a little forgotten.

We didn’t start from zero.

But we didn’t start from a comfortable place either.

Because even though we were at a similar level, each of us came with different strengths within freestyle and snowboarding in general.

And that was key.

Before Progressing, Understanding

The first few days weren’t about pushing limits.

They were about observing.

We explored Livigno, explored Mottolino, walked through the park, analyzed lines, features, and possibilities.

We took the time to understand where we were standing.

And during that first stage, we didn’t create content.

It wasn’t the right time.

We were building judgment.

Back to the Fundamentals

Before thinking about more speed, more height, or more rotation—we went back to the basics.

Edge. Foundation. Control. Stance. Movement. Flow. Confidence.

That invisible work that supports everything else.

We cleaned up our movements. Slowed things down. Turned off autopilot.

Because real progression isn’t about adding more—it’s about refining.

Mottolino: Scale, Respect, and Foundation

Mottolino was our first real contact with the mountain.

A big park. Long. Demanding.

A park built to Olympic standards—where riders at the highest level train and compete today.

And you can feel it.

The chairlift is long. Getting there takes time.
And once you reach the top, there’s not much room to improvise.

The features are big.
The lines are long.
And the margin for error is smaller.

Mottolino isn’t a park that invites you to “give it a try.”

It demands that you arrive with judgment.

But at the same time—and this was the most interesting part—

it also had everything we needed to go back to the basics.

And that’s where we found the real value.

Because in a big, fast, and demanding environment,

the fundamentals stop being an option.

They become a necessity.

That’s where we understood something important:

it’s not about whether the park is big or small—

it’s about how you read it.

We could have tried to push from day one.

But we chose something else.

We chose to use Mottolino not to prove ourselves,

but to build.

We worked on simple lines.
Clean approaches.
Speed control.
Intentional decisions.

We learned to respect the size of the park,

without making ourselves smaller in front of it.

Mottolino put us in our place.

It showed us the standard.

And at the same time, it gave us the space to build a solid foundation within that standard.

Because progressing in a park like this isn’t about being more daring.

It’s about understanding better.

From the Familiar to the Unknown

From there, we started to expand.

Not only in tricks—but in context.

We went from working on what we already knew to demanding more from ourselves:
more speed, more height, more precision, more rotation.

And with that, we also changed terrain.

We left Mottolino and headed to Carosello.

A new park. Different features. New sensations.

Something important happened there:

We stopped depending on “the familiar features”
and started trusting our ability to read any terrain.

Looking at a feature for the first time and knowing:
where to approach, what we needed, how to build it.

That’s real progression.

Twenty’s Park: Where Everything Was Refined

Then we arrived at Twenty’s Park.

And it became our home base.

A short park, but with a fast lap that forced us to stay constantly focused.

It had clear progression:
S, M, and L feature lines,
and jumps that pushed us to look for something different.

That’s where we refined.

That’s where we repeated.

That’s where we started taking our tricks to another level:
more speed, more height… and in some cases, new rotations.

But it wasn’t just the riding.

It was also the people.

We became part of the place. We connected with the people who worked there, with other riders.

A community formed.

And that completely changed the experience.

The Crash

And in the middle of that process, it happened.

On one of the jumps in Twenty’s Park, we misjudged our speed.

On the landing, we caught our toe edge, our body pitched forward,
and we ended up landing with all our weight on our right shoulder.

It was a hard crash.

The kind that pulls you out of the moment.

We didn’t know exactly what the injury was at the time.

But we did know one thing right away:

this was going to change the rhythm of the camp.

Adapting Is Also Progression

That moment marked a before and an after.

Because from that point on, the focus was no longer just on moving forward.

It was on adapting.

Continuing to train, but differently.
Listening to the body.
Adjusting expectations without losing intention.

And that—even though it’s not always talked about—is also part of the process.

(In the next article, we’ll dive specifically into how we handled this part: the injury, the adaptation, and the lessons that came from it.)

Italy: What Happens Off the Mountain Matters Too

But the camp wasn’t just about snowboarding.

It was also about where we were.

We were in Italy.

And inevitably, that became part of the process.

Between sessions, laps, and intense days, there was also time to experience the place.

Walking through the streets of Livigno.
Getting a little lost among the shops.
Sharing clothes, gear, and layers—putting together a shared closet without really thinking about it.

There was tiramisu.
Hot chocolate.
Crêpes after riding.

Simple moments, but the ones that support everything else.

We also met people.

Riders, locals, people who were on the same journey as us, each in their own process.

And without trying too hard, something started to take shape.

A sense of community that wasn’t planned, but ended up becoming an important part of the camp.

Because in the end—

what happens off the mountain

also shapes how we show up on it.

Beyond Freestyle

This camp wasn’t just about tricks.

It was about learning to read terrain.
About building from the ground up.
About stepping outside our comfort zone.
About community.
And about how to keep moving forward when things don’t go the way we expected.

Because in the end—

progression isn’t linear.

And neither is snowboarding.