The biggest women's ski race in North America, turned from broadcast into belonging.
The system — ParticipationA participation system: a World Cup weekend engineered so everyone in the crowd had a role — the race on the hill, the town in the story.
The biggest women's ski race in North America needed more than a crowd. It needed everyone in that crowd to feel like they belonged in it. So we gave them a sentence to finish.
The system — ParticipationA participation system: a World Cup weekend engineered so everyone in the crowd had a role — the race on the hill, the town in the story.

An Audi FIS Ski World Cup — the first World Cup racing in the East since 1991 — on Superstar, a trail we built into a racecourse in November. Early-season racing needs a course nobody can cancel, and nobody in the East makes snow like the Beast. If the World Cup is coming back East, there's one mountain that can promise it. The longest season in the East is made, not born.
This was the reclaimed Beast delivering on its promise at the highest level the sport has. "The longest season in the East is made, not born" stopped being a tagline and became a place you could stand and watch the best women in the world ski down.
But a World Cup is a rare, elite thing. And the challenge with a rare, elite thing is that it can feel like it belongs to someone else — the athletes, the federations, the people with credentials. The race was the proof the Beast could perform. The campaign's job was harder: make a 39,000-person crowd feel like they weren't spectators at someone else's event. Make them feel like they were in it.
That was the mechanic. Fill in the blank. A nine-year-old with a marker completes it one way. A local ripper completes it another. A member of the US Ski Team completes it a third. But it's the same sentence — which means everyone who fills it in takes the same posture, makes the same declaration, stands in the same frame. The prompt doesn't rank you. It includes you.







That was the design move that made the idea real. Read one way, the poster made a statement to you. Turned around — bidirectional — it became a prompt for you, a blank waiting for your answer.
The artifact itself performed the whole thesis: this isn't something we're telling you, it's something you complete. The campaign only finishes when the audience picks up the marker. A brand that hands you the last word is a brand that's decided you belong in the story.
And the proof that the framework actually held? Watch who filled it in




Five members of the US Ski Team completed the same sentence a nine-year-old would: Lindsey Vonn, Mikaela Shiffrin, Nina O'Brien, Resi Stiegler, AJ Hurt.
Here's the part that matters, and it's a distinction I'll hold hard on: they did not endorse the campaign. They entered it. When Lindsey Vonn ad-libbed her way through the prompt, she proved the framework could flex to a personality without breaking. When Mikaela Shiffrin reframed “fearless” as respect and mastery rather than recklessness, she deepened the idea rather than just repeating it. Nina O'Brien ran the mechanic clean. Resi Stiegler closed the bidirectional loop.
That's not star power lending itself down to a promotion. That's the hierarchy flattening — the whole status range of the event, from a nine-year-old to an Olympian, answering the identical prompt, standing in the identical frame. The names didn't validate the idea. The idea was big enough to hold the names

30,000 in 2016. 35,000 in 2017. 39,000 in 2018.
A one-year spike is a novelty. A crowd that climbs three years running is a brand that held — a campaign people came back for, and brought more people to. The rising line is the number I'm proudest of, because it says the idea didn't just work once; it compounded.
The year-one exclamation point: NSAA Best Overall Marketing Campaign for the 2016–17 cycle — the industry's own recognition, and the writeup praised the campaign's videos as fun, effective, and evergreen. And Killington won the bid to host the race again in 2017 and 2018 partly on the strength of that first year's promotion. The campaign didn't just fill the hill once. It helped keep the event coming back.
One thing I won't claim: the campaign didn't put Shiffrin on the podium — she did that herself, winning the Killington slalom in the event's first four runnings. What the campaign did was make sure that when 39,000 people showed up to watch her, they felt like they belonged on that mountain too
A full mountain isn't a vanity metric. The Killington Cup is one of the biggest economic weekends Vermont has — an estimated $15–20 million over a single Thanksgiving stretch. The campaign didn't move those dollars; it made sure the crowd that engine runs on showed up, and kept coming back.
A World Cup is the kind of event that can make an audience feel like outsiders at someone else's party. The work was turning that on its head — taking the most elite thing the sport offers and building a campaign that put a nine-year-old and an Olympian in the exact same frame, finishing the exact same sentence.
That's what the Beast's turn toward the human element actually looks like when it's executed: not superlatives about the mountain, but a blank line handed to every single person who showed up, and the confidence to let them fill it in.
And it worked because the people in it were real. The turn Fast & Fearless made physical — from broadcasting at a crowd to inviting every person in it — proved the conviction I've built on ever since: your guests are the most credible storytellers your brand has. They're authentic, they're believed, and given a real way in, they want to be part of the brand. Hand 39,000 people a blank line and they don't just watch — they claim it, and carry the story further than any campaign could push it. Belief like that isn't bought. It's invited.
The story comes first — here, the story was yours to finish. The system is what made sure the invitation reached everyone, from the front row to the back of the crowd
The Killington Cup trophy is hand-blown crystal, crafted at Simon Pearce in Vermont — molten glass to finished form. A fitting close: a race won on the mountain, its prize made a few valleys over, by people doing the one thing they're best at.
It taught me that participation beats reach — that the strongest brands hand people a role, not just a message. I stopped making things to be watched and started making things to be joined.