Finding Balance

The cable car to the top of the Brévent rises from almost the literal centre of Chamonix. In the depths of the valley, the sun barely reaches the shady streets in the middle of winter, but as the cable car climbs, bright sunlight reflects off snowy slopes and illuminates iridescent glaciers. Directly opposite the Brévent stands the spires and minarets of the Aiguille du Midi and countless other peaks below the dome of Mont Blanc. Each and every piece of rock has been climbed and named, every tongue of snow skied.

The landscape can be read as a history of alpinism, but in doing so, it belies the sheer magnificence of the panorama.

Within minutes of leaving behind the bars and ski shops of the town centre Lucie Pendered-Mazer spends a few moments surveying her virtual backyard from the top of the lift. The January sun throws little warmth, so before long she drops into the side country away from the pistes, threading her way between exposed rock, flowing effortlessly down the mountain, lost in pure play.

From play to competition

In just a couple of weeks Pendered-Mazer will potentially be skiing the same face, but with significantly higher stakes as she lines up in the Chamonix round of the Freeride World Tour qualifying series (the exact location is decided based on snow conditions nearer the time). During those runs she will be judged on the line she takes down the mountain, earning points for the scale of the cliff drops she makes, the technicality of the skiing, the complexity of the tricks that she is able to complete as well as the fluidity of the overall run. It is spectacular to watch, with a rarified elite completing the kind of manoeuvres that even a lay-person could not fail to be impressed by. 

2022 marks Pendered-Mazer’s first time lining up on the Freeride World Tour qualifying series; in fact it marks the first freeride competitions of her life.

This will be Pendered-Mazer's first season lining up alongside some of the world’s best; not remarkable in isolation, but what perhaps is remarkable is that the half French, half English skier’s will be undertaking her first freeride competition ever between now and then…

Back in the streets of Chamonix, Pendered-Mazer lets herself into her newly acquired small design studio; she is a freelance performance sportswear designer, working with companies to design collections, taking them from concept through to production.

Adventures in creativity 

“My life has always been about finding a balance between sport and creativity. I grew up on skis; my dad is a ski instructor in La Plagne, but I always felt a draw to art and creative outlets. I was schooled in the UK, although I still spent a lot of time in France, until I chose to study performance sportswear design at university in Cornwall as a way of combining the two passions. 

“My life has always been about finding a balance between sport and creativity.”

“I even got a job at Adidas almost straight after university. I was working in their innovation team. It was an amazing experience. It felt like I was working with these top level inventors. I learned so much while I was there, but I felt curious about other options. It is such a huge company that it is inevitable that your input is such a small cog in an enormous machine. And in the innovation team we were working on ideas that were years ahead of going to market. Your idea would be part of a much larger process. Reflecting on the experience, I think I missed the depth of involvement that I’d had during university, seeing something through from start to finish. So when my contract came to an end I felt like it was time to try something new. 

“What I thought was going to be a step forward in my career didn’t work out quite that way. I think maybe I was a little big-headed, buoyed by my early experience and responsibilities? Either way, I couldn’t find another corporate role. I’d apply but the feedback was usually along the same lines; I “had too much of my own mind’”

Sometimes to take a step forward, you must first take a step back

In the end Pendered-Mazer turned to working in a ski shop to make ends meet. Back in her early childhood home of La Plagne, she lived the seasonnaire lifestyle; squeezing in time in the snow every minute she wasn’t working, and taking long van trips in the summer. 

“It was a fun time. I packed a lot of joy into those years, but deep down – those moments you pause to ponder a little longer – I was happy, but I wasn’t satisfied. I had always been goal focussed. Always working towards something and for the first time in my life, well I felt quite lost and full of self-doubt. Skiing was an escape, a constant; but I realised that I needed more.”

“Sometimes it is when we are at our busiest that we draw the greatest inspiration and greatest energy to do something else.”

During her third season back in La Plagne, Lucie met her now fiance, Joe. 

“I think I saw in him a lot of what I saw in myself. He was a professional climber who was on track for Olympic qualification when an injury destroyed his hopes. He was snowboarding partly as rehabilitation, partly because he wasn’t sure what to do next.”

It wasn’t long after they met that Joe and Lucie decided to set up a chalet company in La Plagne; skiing every second of the day they could, juggling the cooking, cleaning and other duties in between.

Rediscovering forgotten arts

Sometimes it is when we are at our busiest that we draw the greatest inspiration and greatest energy to do something else. This was the case for Pendered-Mazer as she created a small studio in the garage of the chalet, installed her sewing machine and began designing sportswear again. As spring came and the snow began to melt, Lucie worked.

“I was designing for super small clients and start ups mainly. They loved the creativity that larger clients shied away from. I’ve ended up with way more creative licence and more responsibility than I ever would have had at a big brand. I love getting to share my opinions and also to see the process through; helping with responsible supplier sourcing through to production. It’s amazing to get to see the design lifecycle through to a final product that is how I envisaged it.”

In her studio Pendered-Mazer plays with fabric as she talks: pushing and pulling, rucking it up into mountains and valleys, flattening it back out. She looks completely at home, but Chamonix has only been that for the last twelve months or so. As for many people, the outside influence of Covid provided the drive for her to make a leap. 

“We made the decision to move from La Plagne to Chamonix and found an apartment all within two weeks. I don’t think either of us saw ourselves managing the chalet forever and when lockdown hit, we took the opportunity to wind the business up. I think we knew it was time for a change.”

Inspiration and pressure?

For someone who loves the mountains, there are few places in the world that can inspire in the same way as Chamonix does. It isn’t just the peaks and faces that are visible from the streets. Neither is it just the statues and monuments to the early pioneers acting as daily reminders of the deep rooted, historical, mountain culture. Maybe it is because on any given day of the year you’ll see climbers, skiers, mountaineers, mountain bikers and runners shoulder-to-shoulder walking down the streets, grabbing a quick coffee before taking the first lift out of the valley or sinking a well-earned beer shortly after the last lift down. 
“It should have been a time when I was thriving, but I needed another outlet. I missed sport – I missed skiing. More than that, I wanted a target, or something to work towards.”

The sheer concentration of talent in a small area can often feel daunting. Never mind big fish and small ponds, Chamonix is the Pacific Ocean in comparison. 

What started out as a side business quickly became Pendered-Mazer’s main source of income now the pair were settled in Chamonix. During the early months and in lockdown, she thrived, comforted by the fact that she was busy while many weren’t; connected and inspired during a time when many were floundering. Yet, as the world opened up again, and in the heart of the mountains and with a burgeoning new business, Lucie felt, well… lost again. 

“Chamonix is full of the best athletes in the world doing the most extreme things in the world. But, I had a realisation; they aren’t there doing these things just because they are good at them. They are doing them because it’s what they love.”

“It’s strange isn’t it. It should have been a time when I was thriving, but I needed another outlet. I missed sport – I missed skiing. More than that, I wanted a target, or something to work towards. Also, I think I was scared. Chamonix is so full of the best athletes in the world doing the most extreme things in the world. It phased me. I knew I couldn’t do that, or reach that level. But, I had a realisation; they aren’t there doing these things just because they are good at them. They are doing them because it’s what they love.

Following passions

“I just love to ski,” she says, breaking into an involuntary ear-to-ear smile, “I adore the mountains, and in the summer I enjoy mountain biking, climbing, whatever. But there is something about skiing. That sense of flow that I achieve. The speed, the connection with the landscape and the conditions. I grew up on skis, and it’s still pure joy every time I go out. I love carving low to the ground or flying through the air. I get so much from moving my body that way; there’s something about the cause and effect relationship between my actions and how you move through the snow.”

Even for someone with a life-long affinity with the snow, there is a huge leap – metaphorical and literal – to competing; perhaps even more-so in the freeride arena. While traditional ski racing is certainly not without its risks, it is by its very essence defined by time; a hard calculable figure. Something that can be edged down and improved upon. Freeride is different in many ways. There is certainly progression, but there is always a balance between judgement, risk and reward. The ‘bigger’ (however that may be defined – more complex, physically larger drops, greater risk) the line, the better the score. But, there is inherent danger attached. Competition becomes a game of calculation; not just of one's own ability (and comfort with any given conditions) but also that of your competitors. 

“I think the biggest learning process for me isn’t necessarily going to be the skills – at least to start – but just discovering how to compete. How to construct my line, how to deal with the nerves and adrenaline. Learning when to push and when to hold back.

“I’m not doing this for the fame, or publicity. I just love to ski”

“I’m not doing this for fame, or publicity or anything else. And after the competition is done, I’ll be back at my desk. I’m not an eighteen year old who feels like they have nothing to lose. I like the balance that the prospect of competing brings to my life; but I want just that. Balance. The prospect of a large injury and the impact that would have on other elements of your life is always playing at the back of your mind.”

“I’m planning on competing in three events during January: each a ‘two star’ event in the calendar. Depending on how I get on, the door will then be open to entering some of the larger events – three and four stars – on the Tour. I’m not sponsored or supported, so I need to cover my costs to travel and compete, so we’ll see what happens in the future. At the moment I’m just happy pushing my boundaries and seeing where that takes me.”

Freedom

So in the meantime, Pendered-Mazer is making the most of her new local playground. Exploring with the wide open eyes of a newcomer, learning the folds and creases of the intricate terrain that makes up the Chamonix valley. Scoping out lines with pocket binoculars, and daring to dream about the future. 

“And in that moment, skiing felt like a microcosm of the bigger stuff in my life. I’m at my happiest when I take that leap.”

“I was out a few days ago, just having fun by myself. I found a spot where I could do progressively larger drops. I started small, then moved to something bigger. I stood there, at the top, with butterflies filling my stomach. I could see people staring at me from a nearby chairlift and a wave of pressure. I shuffled up a few metres and let go. I landed with this huge grin on my face. I absolutely loved it. And in that moment, skiing felt like a microcosm of the bigger stuff in my life. I’m at my happiest when I take that leap.”