LONNIE KAUK AND THE NEW ERA OF SPORTSMANSHIP

By Dana Nichols

Lonnie going huge at Snowboarder Magazine’s Men’s Superpark 13 at Mammoth Mountain. Photo by Peter Morning

LONNIE KAUK KNOWS HOW TO MAKE the people on the ground below him smile. It’s late afternoon and he’s lowering off a climb, kicking off the granite wall tossing snowboard grabs in the air. The snowboarder climbs. Or, the climber snowboards…

Eh, labels don’t matter, especially for Lonnie, who feels a new era of sportsmanship coming on: one in which athletes don’t need to do what’s expected of them. One in which the essence of exploring is everything the audience needs to know; in which a season’s success depends on whether, in Lonnie’s case, he can “keep following my heart…” He lingers on these words in his characteristic mellow way of suspending a positive thought in mid-air.

And here’s why he’s leading that charge: on the days he’s not breaking boundaries in professional snowboarding (he recently shot his closing part in Standard Films’ Black Winter in Terrace, British Columbia and Hot Laps at his home mountain, Mammoth), he’s following in father Ron Kauk’s footsteps as a next-level rock climber. Naturally gifted, never scared, Lonnie sees the two sports as the perfect complement to one another and his personal motto: just chill.

“Both are putting something together,” he says. “A climb has so many moves — it’s a lot to put together mentally and physically — just as snowboarding a big mountain or doing a contest run.”

Lonnie found snowboarding at age 15 when he got his hands on a snowboarding video. That’s about the same age Ron was when he turned heads in Yosemite Valley the summer of 1974. Passion and drive evidently run in the Kauk veins as much as a low-key kind of grace.

PHOTO: CHRISTIAN PONDELLAIn Lonnie’s case, he first channeled his energy into steep powder lines and big jumps — the biggest of the big. Chris Zajec, Mammoth Mountain’s Unbound park supervisor, remembers seeing Lonnie send it over June Mountain’s storied Gunsmoke jumps in 2003. “I’ve seen him crash maybe four times in the five years I’ve watched him ride,” continued Zajec. “He’s fun to watch because he’s just happy to be happy, gets along with everybody and he’s one of the best riders out there.”

Lonnie’s been pushing the limits and making his own mark on eastside cliffs. Here he completes the first ascent of Sacred Silence (5.13c) in Ellery Canyon.

Lonnie picked up climbing in his later teen years, starting in Yosemite and the Owens River Gorge. “I started climbing with friends. They were the first ones to take me climbing and show me the ropes.”

And once he was ready, he had the world’s best teachers at his fingertips: “Climbing became a great adventure for me. I climbed with my dad here and there, sending some of his climbs like Peace [5.13c] and Sacred Fire [5.13a] in Tuolumne Meadows. I found a strong connection through the process of climbing, on how to put it together. After a few years climbing John Bachar showed me how to move smooth. I soloed with him at Clark Canyon and Tuolumne Meadows. It was like taking dance classes on how to move with soul.”

In just ten years, give or take, Lonnie has racked up a lifetime’s list of notable ascents. In addition to those mentioned, favorites include Sacred Silence (5.13c) and Defining Moment (5.13c ) at Tioga Cliff in Yosemite, Taste the Pain (5.13c) at Donner summit and a free solo of Maltese Falcon (5.12a) in Clark Canyon. Favorite local boulders are Stained Glass (V10) and Soul Slinger (V9) in the Buttermilks, Wave Catcher (V10) and The Seam (V10) at Way Lake and The Force (V9), King Cobra (V9), Slap Shot (V8) and Midnight Lightning (V8) in Yosemite.

So what was it like growing up in Yosemite? Like a lot of 1990s valley kids, Lonnie liked skateboarding, hiking and “yankin’ tourists’ chains.” Unlike most kids, though, Lonnie’s a descendent of Chief Tenaya. Maintaining a strong connection with his Native American heritage is a big part of who he is.

“I grew up learning a lot from my grandparents about my culture, listening to stories my grandma would tell me of our people who were healers, dreamcatchers and warriors,” he says. “It always amazed me to dream about where I am now, and now the future is here living my dream.”