It's a pretty crazy adrenaline rush because I feel like every run is different. You can never really expect anything. It's like a new adventure every time you drop into the pipe.

Before I drop in, I tend to knock on my snowboard. You know how when you jinx yourself, they're like, 'Knock on wood.' My snowboard's wood, so in case I jinxed myself sometime in the past, I just knock on my board. It just makes me feel a lot more comfortable.

I think the goal is always to be both. I put more effort into the technical side of my riding, but style is very important nowadays.

My dad gave up his job; he stopped working - for me. Without that, I definitely wouldn't be as successful.

When I grew up in the early '90s, the new World Wide Web felt like a gimmick, and I had no idea of the changes in store. In the summers, I'd backpack through Europe, follow the Grateful Dead. I had a car and a tent and traveled around the Great Lakes and out West. Jack Kerouac was my guiding light, his 'On the Road' a sacred text.

In the frequently-asked-question category, the question I get asked almost as much as 'What's the worst thing you've ever eaten?' is 'What's the best pair of pants to travel in, work in, trek in, and use on the road for the most activities possible?'

I always get excited by the idea of adventure, of doing something different.

There's something attractive about making people temporarily forget their actual age by taking them out of their normal lives so completely. Doesn't travel, by its very nature, strive to do this?