Our Manifesto

Back in the day, there was a site called Unofficial Squaw. For skiers around what’s now Palisades Tahoe, it wasn’t just a website, it was the online home of the local ski community.

It was more than just ski porn. There were posts about local events, gear, inside jokes, and the stuff you actually talked about on the chairlift. They even produced a ski movie based on the legendary Game of GNAR, created by Shane McConkey and Robb Gaffney.

You’d ski powder all day, then hop on Unofficial at night to see who skied what, check out photos from the day, marvel at whatever crazy shit Mike Wilson had done, and continue the gossip from that morning’s KT line.

Over time, Unofficial Squaw became Unofficial Networks. In the relentless pursuit of clicks, it swallowed up our neighbors at Unofficial Alpine (still alive and now independent), expanded into other mountain towns, and tried to scale the vibe. Drama followed. People got burned. And eventually, Unofficial Networks turned into the clickbait farm it is today: poorly written slop, generic headlines, and content built for broken-brain social media engagement.

Everything that made Unofficial great disappeared. The inside jokes. The community. The focus on locals and people who actually skied. It sold itself out to the algorithm.

I miss that version. A lot.

The Gap That Exists Now

There’s no great modern home for local stoke.

No reliable place for honest beta, trip reports that actually help you decide on your next mission, behind-the-scenes reality, or gear reviews from people who use the stuff week in and week out.

A lot of today’s ski and mountain bike content falls into two buckets:

Pros going absolutely massive (which rules, to be clear)
Influencers in Sprinter vans who spend more time talking about their follower count than skiing or riding (which sucks)

Almost everything is optimized for clicks, not usefulness or mountain culture.

The (Accidental) Start of One Good Lap

A few months ago, I started One Good Lap, making little ski and mountain bike videos on YouTube.

It began with a handful of adventures at the tail end of last ski season and the start of bike season: a trip to Lassen with a group of friends, skiing Devil’s Slide in June Lake, flying with a pilot buddy to Virginia Lakes for a quick lap up Dunderberg’s South Couloir, and later, my first Downieville lap in a long time.

I filmed them* and cut together edits to share with friends. In the process, I remembered how much I loved filming and editing, harkening back to the old days when some friends and I made a silly ski movie called Gnar Bros.

From there, I just kept making edits. Mostly because I was already skiing and riding anyway. I filmed spring laps on the Shirley Wiggle, reviewed my new mountain bike, rode Stanford Rock, and posted top-to-bottom laps on local favorites like Jackass and the Tyrolean Downhill, and raced my first enduro on Mt Hough.

One Good Lap became part fun, part creative outlet, and part marketing experiment for my day job as founder of Peak Digital Studio. And somehow, it worked.

Over about eight months, the channel grew to nearly 20,000 YouTube subscribers. It started resonating with people. Friends, family, and folks around North Tahoe and Truckee began reaching out with encouragement and ideas.

The early philosophy was simple: share the stoke by making outdoor content that felt approachable, contextual, and rooted in the sport, not just highlights.

The Idea That Never Went Away

While working on One Good Lap, I kept coming back to the same thought:

What if One Good Lap became what Unofficial used to be?

A place for local contributors, athletes, guides, and weekend warriors to share trip reports, gear reviews, observations, conditions, gossip, and culture. A way to carry forward what makes mountain towns, and this one in particular, special.

I didn’t have a timeline. It was just an idea bouncing around in the back of my head.

And Then I Snapped My Ankle

The turning point came a couple of weeks ago.

It had been an almost comically bad start to the ski season in Tahoe. No snow on the ground until the week of Christmas. I was bummed, but at least mountain biking was still good. I even made a video about how dire things were that went a little viral on Instagram and TikTok (for me, anyway).

Then OpenSnow finally showed hope. A classic Sierra storm. Feet of snow. A Christmas miracle.

So on December 15th, I went out for one last bike lap before switching fully into ski mode. I rode Jackass, a trail I ride a couple times a week. On one of my favorite jumps, I landed a little off line, hit a rock, and got my foot wedged between the crank and frame.

My ankle snapped in a way that really only makes sense with a photo.

I spent about an hour on the trail before Truckee Fire reached me (thank you, and sorry for the things I said after you gave me ketamine). At the hospital, they reset my ankle in the ER, which I do not recommend, and scheduled surgery. A week later, the Monday before Christmas, I got plates, screws, and ligament repairs. My fifth surgery. My third with the same surgeon.

My ski season was over before it began.

Lying on the couch, I cycled through the familiar stages of grief (this will be my third missed season):

Denial: If I put it in a ski boot, it’s basically a cast.
Anger: Why does this always happen to me?
Bargaining: Hey doc, what would it take for you to tell my family March skiing is a good idea?
Depression: Will I ever ski again?
Acceptance: If I can’t ski, what can I do?

In that acceptance phase, a few days after surgery and the day after Christmas, I finally committed to the idea I’d been sitting on.

The Next Lap

One Good Lap is entering a new chapter.

It’s shifting from a mostly personal project into a community platform. What stays the same is the honest tone, local flavor, and a strict no-clickbait policy. We will not do the Harlem Shake in ski boots. If we ever do, please print this page out, drive to my office, and hit me with it.

What’s new is contributors and collaborators. More voices. More perspectives. More expertise. Coverage beyond just my own laps.

What We Want to Build

This will be posts, videos, and stories about ski trips, mountain bike adventures, snow and trail observations, and honest gear reviews.

We want to help you plan a tour on the West Shore, choose the right pack, figure out what’s skiing well this week at the resort, or just see what your neighbors are up to.

It’s real people sharing real experiences, carrying the stoke forward in a way that’s fun, lighthearted, and occasionally silly, just like this place has always been.

Join Us

If this sounds good to you, there are a few ways to get involved.

Contribute Content

Send us your raw footage, photos, notes, or ideas. We’ll help turn them into written and video content, publish them on One Good Lap, and credit and tag you.

We don’t have the business model fully figured out yet, and we can’t compensate contributors at the moment. But our goal is to build a bigger platform together and drive attention back to the people doing the work. Guides, athletes, shop owners, and stoked locals are all welcome.

Advertise or Partner

Want to sponsor content, advertise, get your gear reviewed, or talk about your guide operation or brand? Reach out. We’re closing in on 20,000 YouTube subscribers and growing across other channels.