The following article was originally printed in the October 2025 Issue of Slush. To get more articles and subscribe, click here.
Interview by Pat Bridges
Like most great stories, Blaise Rosenthal’s snowboarding journey lends itself to being told via the “three-act structure.”
The setup is easy. In the early ’90s, Blaise Rosenthal was emblematic of the opportunities that snowboarding could provide to a blue-collar kid raised in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. With magazine covers aplenty, film parts galore, and a top sheet plastered with top-tier sponsor logos, Blaise was a humble idol seemingly able to spin frontside on command.
The “confrontation” or “midpoint” comes when the halcyon highs get juxtaposed with turbulent lows, such as losing a sponsor, only to then re-emerge as the figurehead of Millennium Three. Yet M3 also came to an end a few seasons later. From there came a retreat into the world of art and surfing. Insecurity ensued.
The third act has the protagonist rekindling his love for the riding life and inspiring others to follow suit. But make no mistake—the final chapters of Blaise’s snowboarding story have yet to be written.
In terms of making a life in snowboarding, what was your big break?
In 1994 I was riding at Boreal and I bumped into Todd Schlosser. We were lapping Boreal’s Jibassic Park with Dave Lee. I didn't know it, but Mack Dawg was hiding in the trees filming. I went to the SIA trade show in Vegas a few weeks later. There was a teaser playing for the first Transworld Video Magazine and I was in it. I met Mack Dawg and he asked me, “Do you want to film a part?" I said, "Of course." Filming with Mack Dawg made everything else open up. Being in his videos was a seal of approval that the industry completely respected and paid attention to. Dawger was a big part of giving me the life that I had, which I'm still grateful for.
Do you recall an era or moment you consider the peak of your pro career?
There are three that I can think of that stand out. The first is the season that Stomping Grounds was made when I was invited to be a full-time part of the Mack Dawg crew. I even sat in and edited the movie with Mack Dawg and Kurt Heine. That was the first time I had a full part and my career took off.
The next one was a bit later. My sponsor at the time, Silence, stopped investing in marketing, so they dropped their whole team. It was me, Chad Otterstrom, and Wille Yli-Luoma. I was 25 at the time, which was considered old back then. I went to Mount Hood and broke my foot skateboarding the first week I was there. So I had no sponsor, I was 25, and I was injured. I talked to a few companies, but I just couldn't make anything happen. I was like, "Geez, is this the end?" But there was this one brand called Molly. They were making me offers but I was like, "I'm not going to ride for a company called Molly." Then I had an idea. I had this crew of riders—Kendall Whelpton, Scotty Wittlake, and Chad Otterstrom. Chad was becoming one of the best snowboarders in the world. I approached Molly and asked, “What if we do a brand and call it Millennium Three?” They were hesitant and expected to only sell 500 boards. They sold like 14,000 of them right away. I went from being injured with no sponsor to making something with my crew. It turned out way better than even I thought it would. M3 sponsored the Kingpin movie Revival. I ended up getting the ender, which was probably the best part of my career.
The third moment that stands out was when I was 29 and filming for Kingpin’s Happy Hour. I wasn't having the best season. We were filming this jump up in Whistler with Lukas Huffman and Tyeson Carmody—a big step down. Lucas is just straight-up gnarly. He'd wake up and be like, "What's the biggest jump I can hit today?" We'd go out and I'd be like, "I don't know if I want to hit this jump.” But I chose to be a pro snowboarder and that’s the job, so I’d hit it. We started sessioning the step down and Lucas front-sevened it. Tyeson got hurt on it right away and I kept bouncing off the knuckle. I wasn't going big enough. So I hiked way the fuck up there and yelled at myself as I was riding down to the lip, "Don't check, don't check, don't check." In the end I landed a cork back seven over it. I still have a clip of it on my phone that I show people when they want to see the best thing I ever did on a snowboard. I didn't know it at that moment, but M3 would fall apart a few months later, which literally marked the end of that period of my career.
Who were the biggest influences on your riding?
In regards to style, Chris Roach was a really big influence on me, and then Nate Cole, who is profoundly influential—my favorite rider ever. I still think of how he would do a trick before I drop in. I always really liked Matt Donahue, who was super creative and artistic with everything he did. Marc Morisset was also a huge influence on me. Last but not least is Peter Line. He's the original snowboarding genius. He was so smart and involved in everything he was a part of. Peter was also constantly changing the game. Pete would do something, and it'd be like, "Okay, now we're all going to spin frontside off our heels. Now we're going to do backside rodeos."
How did Blaise Boot Camp and Midlife Crisis come about?
Blaise Boot Camp started because Andy Blumberg, who used to be the editor of Transworld, was always looking for things that we could go do. We went on a trip to Bear Valley, which is the resort I learned at. I probably hadn't been there in 20 years, and all the locals came out to ride with us. I tend to—well, I guess the word is “encourage”—other people. I try to be like, "Hey, I bet you can do this trick. Why don't you try this trick? Why don't you jump off this thing?" Everyone was having a blast and saying, "I haven't ridden like that since I was 20 years old.” So we had the idea to make a camp based on a bunch of adult riders sessioning.
The name comes from Corey Smith. We'd go ride Boreal and after an hour he'd say, "All right, let's go take a break and have a drink." I'd be like, "Break? No, let's keep going." Eventually he would ask, "How long are we going to ride?" and I would reply, "Until the chairs close." One day he just said, "It's like fucking Blaise Boot Camp around here." So that became the name. The Boot Camp became these gatherings that are pretty immersive culturally. We have a great time together. We started at Bear Valley, and now we do it around the world. That's actually why I'm in New Zealand right now.
With Midlife Crisis, coming back into it, I was wanting to snowboard as much as possible. I had always gone up to High Cascade when I was pro. I looked into it and saw that they have an adult camp and I was hired to be an adult coach. Chad Otterstrom reached out to me while I was at Hood, saying, "I'm jealous. I want to come. Ask if I can guest coach?" High Cascade said, "Of course. It's Chad."
Chad always has a camera with him. That summer he said, "Let's make a video." The name comes from the fact that we had gone from staying in the nicest hotels making six-figure paychecks at the peak of our careers to just doing whatever it took to do this thing we loved. It seemed like we were having a midlife crisis—in a good way. At a certain point, someone approached me about making some sweatshirts for the video. I had thought Midlife Crisis was just old guys snowboarding around, but when I took a picture of my son Alex in the sweatshirt—he’s a tall, handsome kid with big, surfer, blonde hair—it looked so good. I thought, "I don't exactly know what or how, but I know this is a thing."
What do you feel is your legacy in snowboarding?
I think I was always pretty good at snowboarding, but I was never Peter Line or Chad Otterstrom good. I really loved snowboarding back then. I love it now. I think my legacy in snowboarding is twofold. Starting M3, and from there finding Scotty Wittlake sleeping in his car on the side of the road at Mount Hood. M3 provided a foundation for Scotty to launch from and he changed the entire game. Everyone went from baggy pants to tight pants, from being hip-hop clean to hesh dirty—overnight. It was crazy. M3 also helped Mikey LeBlanc rise to the top of the snowboarding stratosphere.
It’s interesting that as much as my pro career was amazing, and I'm grateful for it, perhaps the biggest influence I ever had at that time came from giving others a shot. I always thought that would be the end of the story. But now that I am snowboarding again every day, making videos, and running camps, it has been amazing to see the outreach of support from older riders who didn’t think this culture was for them anymore. With Midlife Crisis and Blaise Boot Camp I think we are building something important that keeps people riding and engaged, which in turn makes their lives better. Because snowboarding is the best thing ever.
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