NST is undoubtedly changing the way backcountry events are showcased. Helmed by COO Liam Griffin, the production team deploys experienced snowboard filmers across umpteen angles, futuristic FPV drones, and a shit-ton of expensive and complicated broadcast equipment to beam the feed from the backcountry just outside of Revelstoke Mountain Resort to southern California. From there, angles are pieced together, enhanced or tarnished with commentary (depending on who you ask), and sent worldwide.
Scrubby trees hide the entrance. A sloping wooden tunnel descends to a brightly lit reception area. There is a surgery unit, equipped with beds, cardiac monitors and ventilators. And shelves full of medical equipment, drugs and neat piles of spare clothes. In a staff room with a washing machine and kettle, doctors keep an eye on a screen. It shows the movements of Russian spy drones as they zigzag in the sky above.
Editor's note: This story features several interviewees who requested to be identified only by their first name or call sign for their safety. Every few weeks, Ukrainian bridal shop owner Ilia scrapes together a donation usually no more than $7. "If I had any doubts about how my money was being used, I wouldn't give it," said the grizzled 33-year-old, who is exempt from military service because he is blind in one eye.
