SEVERAL BEERS AND A COUPLE OF GLARES from the bartender led me outside to a view of the high-flying moto-cross action. Cued by a loud gasp from the crowd, my eyes shifted to the enormous tabletop where motorcyclist Brian Deegan ejected from his bike more than 40 feet above the ground. Although the fall left Deegan with a broken femur and wrist, he was promptly hauled away and the show went on without a hitch. That’s business as usual in the world of extreme sports, where the line between being extreme daring and extreme stupidity sometimes seems exceedingly fine.

Extreme is defined as “the furthest or highest degree of something.” So does that inherently mean that whoever throws the biggest trick or breaks the most bones is the most extreme? Or is it simply another way of measuring who is the best?

FRIDAY NIGHT FOUND ME at another VIP event: Powder Magazine’s prestigious video awards ceremony at the Regis Hotel in downtown Aspen. As I checked my slightly torn and faded jacket at the door and realized I was somewhat underdressed for the occasion. I shamefully hid my old Patagonia on a rack between two fur coats as I snatched the ticket from the checker. Making my way into the overflowing ballroom I felt much more at ease as I viewed dozens of people sporting hoodies and knitted beanies. It was quite the fashion dichotomy; grungy guys wearing overgrown hair and sweatshirts, while the females were decked out in slinky dresses and evening wear reminiscent of a high school prom.

As the MC listed the nominees for the top male skiers of the year, the chandeliers in the ballroom were beclouded with pot smoke and I felt a little hazy myself after too many shots of my VIP Jegermeister. All the big skier names were there: Mike Douglas, Seth Morrison, Pep Fujas, and Shane McConkey. They accepted awards for categories including “best crash” and “best trick” as video clips played on two TVs behind the stage.

In the back of the room I engaged in a heated discussion with two skiers from Crested Butte on who would win the prestigious “Skier of the Year” award. I wouldn’t have started talking with the two but during “Female Skier of the Year” one of them claimed to have hooked up with Picabo Street. I felt it my journalistic responsibility to investigate.

So after revealing my identity, the two guys became my best friends, telling me all kinds of unprintable information about many of the award-winning girls. And then, hoping to use my VIP status to their advantage, the two demanded that I get them free drinks at the bar. I ignored them and acted as if I couldn’t hear them over the blaring punk music. They reminded me of their presence with a swift push into a table. I had words with them, explaining I couldn’t even afford to get drunk myself, and they soberly slouched back down into their chairs.

I was able to corral freeride skier Steele Spence at the video awards party, and asked him about his life as a sponsored skier. A cute blonde latched firmly to his shoulder sneered at every question I asked. “It’s been non-stop skiing,” said Spence. Top finishes at the X games and the U.S. Freeskiing Open has led Spence to trips around the world to compete in locations such as Switzerland and Sweden. His ski career is somewhat of an anomaly in that Spence still finds time for school and is currently attending the Art Institute of Colorado in Denver where he told me he hopes to graduate “when [he] get[s] around to it.”

The most impressive award was given to Aaron McGovern for “Worst Slam.” The clip features McGovern tumbling head-over-heals for hundreds of feet down a sheer mountain face. Accepting his award, McGovern appeared to be either brain-damaged from the crash or drunk out of his mind. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I hurled my body off a 150 ft. cliff if I could be on the stage as well. Does it take real talent or simply a major league set of cajones?

The most intriguing guest of the night, however, wasn’t a hip new skier showing off his newfound trick or video sequence-it was a legend of the sport, 85-year-old Klaus Obermeyer. He’s a ski-clothing designer from Germany who invented a plethora of important ski-related items including the first down parka, the first hard-shelled ski boot with a liner, and surprisingly, the first turtleneck to hit the slopes. Obermeyer moved to the U.S. in 1946 and made his start selling Bavarian neckties and shoestrings out of long time film producer, Warren Miller’s Buick. Soon after, Obermeyer moved to Aspen to ski and began developing equipment that is still used today. His appearance on the stage was brief but memorable as he finished the awards off with some traditional German yodeling.

SATURDAY STARTED OFF WITH AN EARLY TRIP to the VIP tent-9:30 am to be exact, which turned out to be an hour too early for free booze. I was left to mingle with the hordes while the caterers prepared a gourmet breakfast buffet. But who could complain, it was a bluebird day and crowds were beginning to fill the viewing areas. Hundreds of 16-year-old girls arrived in waves of designer jeans and oversized hoodies, hoping to catch a glimpse of 17-year-old snowboard-phenom Shaun White or some other pre-pubescent favorite. The journey back to the tent led me through crowds of people and into the concessions area where I was hassled by a woman in uniform - a Navy recruiter. Normally I don’t complain when this type of thing happens but she wasn’t trying to get my number in the way I was hoping. She asked if I wanted to “accelerate my life with the Navy” -my heart dropped and so did my enthusiasm. However, being the good patriot I am, I allowed her to continue her solicitation. She convinced me with a free pen that I could fill out my name on a card that would enter me in a drawing for a hundred bucks. These recruitment tactics had fooled me before so I carefully jotted down my roommate’s personal information-including key information like how many years of high school he had finished and whether or not he had sustained any joint debilitating injuries. It was clearly apparent that the Navy was buying in to an untapped resource; washed up X Games adrenaline junkies.

When I asked 5th place skiing slopestyle finisher C.R. Johnson how he keeps his interest in skiing he said that “as long as you love what you are doing and enjoy your sport you’ll never stop. Once skiing isn’t fun any more you can’t get any better.” Every person I talked to had extreme passion for their sport. It is their life and the lifestyle that accompanies it is simply a bonus. These athletes, though they may know how to party and can roll a joint wearing ski gloves, are still professional athletes in the same respect. And the attention that these athletes receive is only a fraction of what they truly deserve. In our generation of Red Bull, Mountain Dew and “all things extreme”, these athletes serve as living proof that being extreme and being good at it pays.