They're only three volumes in, but The Ski Journal has already distinguished itself as the type of publication that takes a deep-think approach to the sport. Like The Alpinist for mountaineering, it ditches copious ads in favor of luxurious paper stock, drool-inducing photography, and thoughtful articles that reflect on the culture of skiing -- namely, the stuff that'll probably kill it in today's publishing Armageddon.
Oh, and did I mention it costs $12.95 an issue?
But somebody clearly loves The Ski Journal (I'm betting Bill Gates has a couple copies in his bathroom at the Yellowstone Club). You can't blame them: The latest issue has fantastic features on skiing chutes with penguins in Antarctica, a retrospective with 70s ski icon Wayne Wong, and a photo collection from outdoor photographer extraordinaire Christian Pondella.
This is a magazine (book?) that can make a photo essay on cliff hucking feel meditative rather than simply bro-tacular; you'll want to pore over it like the Bible before a long weekend at church (the mountains). Po' folks can follow their updates on their news feed, too.
Which brings us back to that burly price tag: A one-year subscription (that's four issues) costs 40 bones. You can ask for one for ChristmaKwanzukah, but it's probably all you'll get. Instead, you can do what I do: Disguise yourself as a lady of affluence, seduce a well-heeled, chalet-owning silver fox at the Beav, and sneak out with the bathroom copy on your walk of shame. It's worth it.