Freestyle skiing has cemented itself as an electrifying sport that pushes the boundaries of what many thought was even possible on the slopes. Born from a spirit of rebellion and a desire to break free from the rigid confines of traditional alpine skiing, it has undergone a remarkable transformation over the years. It has evolved from a counterculture movement to a globally recognized discipline that captivates both athletes and spectators.
However, despite the thrilling journey of how freestyle skiing has progressed, there is one trick that stands out as being so unique that it may never be repeated. It was an achievement that originated as a daring thought and proved to be a dynamic display of style and skill and became one of the most innovative ventures ever showcased on snow.
That feat is the tandem front flip, and this is the story of the first and only accomplishment of its kind.
How did this come about?
It all started in 1972 at a regional competition at Solitude, Utah. In those early days of freestyle skiing, there was no governing body to regulate the jumping or the participants. The “Most Spectacular” portion of the contests was the most popular, as contestants could sign up for whatever trick they wanted to as long as they attempted what they said they would. The crowds came to love the spectacular crashes that typically accompanied the event as the athletes tested their limits. Back then there was no protective equipment eitherโnot even helmets.
Lance Merrill, who is now a contractor in Provo, Utah, was competing that day and knew he would have some stiff competition in the “Most Spectacular” category. There were rumors that some of the competitors were going to be attempting twisting doubles. Merrill had been working on his own double forward flip and had landed a few of them in practice, but unfortunately, due to an unfamiliar takeoff, ended up with a huge yard sale in the landing zone on his attempt.
As he was dusting himself off and gathering his gear, he noticed in the distance two patrolmen go off a jump mounted together on the same pair of skis. “As I hiked back toward the jumps above me, the thought occurred to me that you could do a tandem flip,” Merrill exclaimed. “That would win the Most Spectacular contest for sure.”
For the next two years, Merrill tried to find someone who believed enough in his crazy idea to risk an attempt at a tandem flip with him. Finally, he convinced his friend, Scott Miles, now a retired mechanical engineer from Sandy, Utah, that it was possible. That summer, Merrill purchased a pair of 230cm skis to use in the endeavor. They mounted two sets of Nevada bindings on them, one 12 inches from the front and another about 18 inches from the back. Since practicing the move would involve a fair amount of risk, they decided the best way to prepare for it would be through visualization before physically doing it.
“The week before the jump on the first day we repeatedly envisioned the inrun and the initial pop, the second day the inverted position, the third day rotating toward the horizon, and finally the compression of landing and the outrun. Friday we each envisioned the entire jump, over and over, start to finish.” – Lance Merrill
The first attempt
That weekend, both of them and a group of friends headed out to an abandoned Nordic ski jump in Big Cottonwood Canyon to make their dream a reality. Earlier that week, they had taken shovels and water to the spot to build a huge kicker with an abrupt lip that would be crucial in providing the rotation needed to bring the flip around. Then, they iced it down with 10 gallons of water to preserve the feature.
“Our friends joked that someone would have to take us to the hospital,” Merrill chuckled. “As we climbed to the top of the inrun, they continued to question our sanity and courage.” But undeterred, the two turned the skis perpendicular to the run and clipped into the long skis with Merrill in front and Miles in the rear. They assured each other that it was going to work and turned into the inrun.
For a first attempt, it went pretty well. Merrill ended up diving forward, causing his heels to release from the bindings. Miles remained secure, and they both rotated in unison. Fresh powder that had fallen during the week softened the landing as Miles twisted desperately to keep from landing on Merrill before both of them crashed. “Our friends were hooting and hollering 150 feet up the hill at the jump,” said Merrill. “They came down to help us fill in the crater we had made. As we climbed back up the hill, it began to dawn on us: the timing of the rotation was perfect, and the distance was good. This jump was going to work!”
The second attempt was a thing of beauty, as Merrill describes it.ย
“I tightened my heel bindings as tight as they would go with a scoop shovel. Then we confidently bombed down the inrun. This time as I dove over the shovels of the skis, I could feel the tug of Scott’s momentum as he extended into a layout behind me. When we were inverted, I opened up and Scott tucked tightly. The horizon came around and we landed perfectly. But it was a lot of weight and we sunk into the outrun, only managing to stay on our feet a few yards.”
This time, their friends stood there in stunned silence, their jaws slack in amazement, while Merrill and Miles celebrated joyously. They had perfectly landed the flip standing up. Everyone helped fill in and pack down the landing zone,ย and the duo executed another flip with similar results.
Doing it in a competition
The next contest was the Gelande held at Sundance, Utah. The buzz at the event was word that a world record attempt was to be made for the most people doing a backflip while holding hands. Ten people had done it in Vermont before 16 people completed one in the Northwest. After all the “Most Spectacular” jumps were finished, 22 people attempted their backflip on a 40-foot-long gainer kicker that was on the lip of the Montoya run. Several of them broke their grip, so it wasn’t a record.
It was now time for Merrill and Miles to attempt their tandem flip. The lip on the kicker at the event was not as steep as the one they had practiced on, and the contest officials refused to modify it for them. The judges also questioned their courage and sanity when they heard what they were about to attempt. They climbed up higher on the inrun to gain extra speed for the rotation, but they ended up flopping terribly. However, the crowd absolutely loved it.
This was way before the time of smartphones and constant live streaming, but KSL TV was on the scene covering the event and filmed the attempt. VCR and DVR weren’t around either, but due to repeated requests from viewers, it was shown on the 6 PM and 10 PM news for over a week. Today, KSL TV cannot find the footage, but fortunately, a spectator captured the image of their attempt.
This story, and many others, are documented in Merrill’s book, We Should Have Died Young. The book describes how Merrill pioneered extreme sports, including hang gliding, aerobatic ski jumping, and free climbing, all in the beauty of the Wasatch Range and later the red rock deserts of Southern Utah. It also recounts the never told story of his best friend who found himself a top target of the FBI. He and his friends survived it all, and Merrill tells the stories of how they all should have probably died young.
Merrill and Miles realizing their dream is a testament to human curiosity, courage, and the enduring love of adventure. Their feat of defiance against gravity may have been unorthodox but reminds us that no matter how far we’ve come, the journey for the next great progression in skiing continues. Next year will be the 50th anniversary of their achievement and to this day no one has ever done something like it.