The Dream, The Vibe, The Madness – Swatch Nines 2025 from the top

But above that stillness, high on the slopes of Schilthorn, something entirely different had awoken.

On what was the arrival day for the majority, a handful of early-bird riders and filmers had ventured up to the setup for a mellow day of testing, to feel out the jump and assess for any last minute adjustments – or so they said. As soon as the first speed check went down successfully, to the relieved whooping of the chosen few, it was clear that the jump was perfect and that no one was going to hold back. What was supposed to be a mellow warm-up turned into a full-blown session with trick after trick being landed – from hand drag doubles to switch quads.

By the time the rest of us had arrived, Mürren’s reverie had been broken – the air was already crackling with excitement. The media office – the epicenter of all Nines content – was abuzz with the stories of what had gone down. Old friends reconvening from across the ski world immediately huddling around monitors, reviewing shots with wide eyes and even wider grins. The week had not even started yet, and already it felt like history was being made. The tone was set – Swatch Nines 2025 was not easing in, it had already gone full-throttle – and this was just the beginning.

The Vibe

The Swatch Nines is more than just an event, it is a melting pot of the world’s best talent – from visionary filmers, lens-wielding photographers, fearless follow-cam riders, skillful (yet nerdy) FPV pilots and master editors, to of course the skiers themselves. The concept is simple – build the most progressive snowpark features ever designed, invite the best riders in the world and have as much fun as possible. 

This year, it was widely agreed that the setup was one of the best anyone had ever seen – it was nothing short of a work of art. A perfectly shaped, enormous jump was the centerpiece, surrounded by multiple imaginative features. Satisfying curves juxtaposed with sharp edges gave countless transition options and created an ultimate playground allowing the riders to express themselves with creative freedom. 

The Madness

From the very first “warm up” day, it was clear that this year was going to be special. Luca Harrington had already stomped a switch quad cork 1620 before most people had even unpacked their bags. As all the riders first set eyes on the setup the next morning, the anticipation was palpable.

With wall-to-wall good weather all week, the days slipped into a routine. The formula suited the riders and the filmers alike, with the day split into two distinct sessions.

Magic Mornings

Every morning golden light would spill over the jagged silhouette of the Eiger, casting long shadows across the sculpted playground. There was always a quiet intensity as the most eager riders would brave the bulletproof snow to make the most of the morning light. 

As the sun climbed higher and the snow softened, the tempo would shift. More riders would join the line-up and soon the setup would be alive with motion and noise – the stomp of landings, the whirr of drones and the chorus of cheers. 

Luca Harrington and Vincent Viele would often be leading the charge, sending first and setting the tone. One morning towards the end of the week felt different, if something big was going to happen, it was going to be today. Both were working on tricks that had only been landed a handful of times, and never by them. 

They stomped triple after triple with the consistency most people dream of – but both wanted more, you could feel it. After opening up on a few attempts, Vincent dropped in, beating his chest and with full commitment, ripped off the lip and pulled into his first quad cork 1800 safety. His arms shot skyward. The rope tow crew exploded and everyone waiting at the top went bananas.

He was tackled to the ground by ringmaster Nico but the celebrations were cut short as the drone peeled straight back to the top – Luca was preparing to drop in. With the camera still rolling, Luca visualised his rotation once more, dropped in and gripped the esco on a perfect-looking switch triple cork 1980. As he disappeared over the knuckle, still clinging onto his grab, there was a collective intake of breath from the top – time stood still. 

Then – an eruption from the landing crew. He rode back into view with his hands on his head in a mixture of disbelief and joy – he had stomped it. Vincent was the first to reach him, arms outstretched and yelling as the rest of the riders poured in around them, turning the rope tow queue into a mosh pit of celebration and chaos. 

It was often around this time in the late morning when the sweet aroma of Swiss chronic would waft over the drop in area, announcing the arrival of the Buldoz Crew.

One of the great things about the Nines is the diversity of riders from across the spectrum of freeskiing coming together. Pairing riders like Andri Ragettli and The Grillest and watching their individual perspectives on how to ride the setup is something that would not happen anywhere else. 

This year, the Swiss street skiing gang imparted their unique style on the setup. As you might expect, Remco Kayser, Gilles Tinguely and Sampo Vallotton swerved every transition and slashed every lip they could find – even pioneering a session on the back side of the snow bar and jibbing the portaloos with their visionary take on skiing. 

The women did not hold back either. Our Downdays Become A Nine winner Anouk Andraska, justified her spot time and time again throughout the week. She opened up the massive transfer take off next to the jump putting a double cork 1080 and her first ever double backflip to her feet. In her rookie year, her determination, heavy sends and motivation was recognised by the rest of the riders and she would take home the MVP award at the end of the week – a great honour.

Kirsty Muir and Megan Oldham were the only other two female skiers to land doubles but that is certainly not what it’s all about. Both, along with Lara Wolf, put on a style clinic throughout the week, grabbing more blunts than Sleepy at a Buldoz Crew brunch.

The session would naturally wind down as tired bodies needed rest and riders – substance assisted or not – started to get hungry. Everyone would head into the riders lounge for a feed and to swap stories and share clips of the morning’s madness.

Astonishing Afternoons

As the roasting afternoon sun would turn the perfectly manicured playground into a slushy paradise, the riders’ focus would shift away from the main jump.

Each afternoon the spotlight would shift down the course to the Gap-to-Rail – inspired by the Geilo Rail in Norway – massive, unforgiving, and wildly-technical. From the transition of the take-off, the rail was invisible until mid-air – riders had to trust their instincts. The rail became a proving ground.

Early in the week, Max Moffatt set the tone – unlocking the feature with a series of jaw-dropping tricks that blurred the line between technicality and style. 

The limits of possibility were approached during a game of SLVSH between Gian Andri Bolinger and Finley Melville Ives, who set a switch double cork 990 on and a forward double cork 1170 on respectively. Unfortunately, neither managed to put a letter on the other, but both stomped their tricks clean outside of the game, encapsulating the ethos of both the Nines and SLVSH.

The Gap-to-Rail was not only for the guys. Kirsty Muir sparked debate by landing a backflip onto the rail – arguably a never-been-done trick – to light up the session. Followed by Megan Oldham landing a 450 to forward – clean and controlled. Every rider was followed into each hit by a wave of encouragement from their fellow skiers, the vibes were high and the camaraderie unrivalled.

With barely a warm-up, Jay dropped in, carved off the takeoff, and stomped a cork 360 to 5050 onto the Gap-to-Rail – first try. Let that sink in. One of the most challenging features on the course. A rail so blind and technical that it took the world’s best able-bodied skiers multiple days to work out spinning onto it – some never even got it clean. Jay? He nailed it, right out of the gate. 

The filmers went wild – the drop-in crew had to triple check that what they had just seen was correct – it was almost unbelievable what Jay had just done. Not one able-bodied professional skier tried that trick all week and frankly, it might have taken them all week to land it – if ever. Jay’s stomp was voted as the best trick of the week by his peers – there was no real question, it was well deserved.

As the shadows once again lengthened over the features and the golden light began to fade, the pace would slow. Some riders trudged out and headed for the gondola, worn out but glowing. Others gathered at the top of the setup – cracking a beer, soaking in the moment and watching the last few hits with the satisfaction that only comes after giving everything. Filmers would appear from their posts like sentries returning from a watch shift – weary, fried by the sun, dragging cameras full of heavy clips – but always smiling. “What a day.”

After emotional thank you speeches and many drinks drunk from shoes, the music turns up, the mini ramp lives on and the party really starts. By this point in the week, it really feels like one big family all gathered to celebrate creativity, community, culture and progression.

And this is how it ends: with a dance floor full of legendary people, drunk friends, and debauchery that is probably best left untold. 

The Reawakening

As quickly as it had appeared, the excitedly crackling air had been replaced by thick clouds that hung heavy in the silent streets of Mürren, blanketing the sins of the night before. The village had gone back to normal, still and quiet, as if no time had passed at all. So with heads pounding and memories as clear as mud – the goodbyes began. 

Falling back to the valley floor feels like a hypnic jerk – jumping you awake from the dream. Did that really all just happen? Will anyone believe me when I tell them? How could they understand? 

But the ones that were up there will know. They’ll remember the morning light from the gondola window, the sound of skis leaving take-offs and the cheers echoing around Schilthorn. They’ll remember the moments between the madness – the smiles, the laughs, the fist bumps and the celebrations. They might not remember everything that happened on the final night, but it might be better that way.

They came, they flipped, they drank out of their shoes. The dream is over – until next year.