Splitboard Binding Shoot Out: Voile, Spark R&D, Karakoram

It’s been a little over a year since I switched from the Karakoram Split30 binding system to Spark R&D Burners.
I have no regrets.
Despite the low snow in AK this winter, we were presented with a lot of opportunities to ski some solid lines and do some big tours. The performance of these bindings has been top notch, and has lead me to some conclusions on splitboard binding technology in general.
In 6 seasons of splitboarding (I was on snowshoes my first winter up here) I’ve used Voile conversions for 1, Voile Lightrails for 2, Karakoram Split30s for 2, and Spark R&D Burners for 1.
In that time, I’ve had a number of partners who have used these same systems, as well the Spark R&D Tesla system.
Here are my conclusions:
 
Voile Lightrails and conversions
Voile’s slogan is “Simple, Solid, Backcountry.” That’s what you get with them too. They’re not fancy, they’re not cutting edge, but they came up with the puck and pin system first, and they haven’t done much to change their bindings since.
As far as the conversion bindings go, if you’re on a budget, and already own a pair of regular bindings, this is a good option. Using the conversion kit also means you can use any snowboard binding you want, and are not beholden to a specific splitboard binding company, or the feast/famine nature of parts availability for splitboard bindings.
The downsides are fairly obvious: you have the added weight of the heavy metal mounting plate and additional required mounting hardware, and you ride higher on your deck. Given that most splitboards are already on the stiff side, this last part could really give a board a “twitchy” feel in soft riding conditions.

The first season I splitboarded I had a pair of 2004 Burton Customs mounted to the Voile conversion base plate. Photo J.W.

Note the lift due to the base plates. Photo K.M.

The Lightrails, the original splitboard-specific binding, are a pretty good system for their value. 
One notable nuisance with Voile systems, they rely on a pin that is secured with a latch, and kept attached by a leash. Voile’s leashes don’t seem to last long, and it is possible to release the pins. I threw a pin at least once when I was on Voiles, and know others have too. 
I learned this winter though, while helping another rider out who had lost her Voile pin, that Spark pins can be used on Voiles. This is worth noting for Voile users as the Spark pin system is more secure. Also, any rider using a puck and pin system should ALWAYS carry a spare pin.
The touring interface on Voile is also weak, relying on a thin metal mount that is easily flexed.
In general, Voile makes good, reliable products, and I’ve had good customer service from them. It should be noted that Spark actually relies on some of Voile’s proven design for their own systems. When it comes to pushing the sport forward though, don’t expect much from Voile. I like them, but they are clearly a ski company that makes some splitboards and splitboard parts. If they wanted to be a leader, it wouldn’t take much.



Up on the Lightrails. Photo J.O.

And down. Photo J.W.

 
Karakorams
To see my thoughts on Karakoram’s Split30s, go here (LINK). The company launched a new interface this season. I have not met any other riders employing it so far, so I can’t comment on even second-hand experiences. It looks cool, and like a potential improvement, but I still see some obvious design weaknesses in the ride mode (the touring mode is still the same). I look forward to reading or hearing other’s thoughts.

Putting the Karakorams through their paces navigating a stout rain crust and some whippy terrain. Photo J.O.

 
Spark R&D
I’m using Spark Burners. At this point, here’s what I can say: I don’t see any reason to use any other system.
Yes, the puck and pin is Neanderthal: you grunt and shove them onto the pucks before dropping in, and rely on a simple pin as your connection and axel while touring.
Here’s the thing, I think this system still wallops everything else for overall performance and reliability.
The main advantages I see the Burners having over the Lightrails is that 1. The Burners are a bit more burly than the former, and 2. More importantly, have a stiffer touring connection.
As an aside, and in keeping with my review of the Karakorams, I really appreciate the simplicity of the straps Spark uses (simple T-nuts are used on the inside of the straps to adjust length, as opposed to camlocks used by Voile and Karakoram).
The burly factor is not particularly significant. I think the Lightrails are pretty tough too. 
I do want to take a moment here to comment on one thing in general with splitboard bindings: burlier is better. 
Both Spark and Karakoram have pursued lightweight binding options, though Spark also offers the tougher Burner and Afterburner (for Tesla). I’m not a big guy (145 lbs), but this is snowboarding, not skimo racing. 
By default, snowboarding means more aggressive line choices, more power-edging, and more harsh maneuvering. If you want to cut weight on your set up, get a light deck; get stiff, light boots; get light clothing; but don’t skimp on your bindings. All the aforementioned components have proven reliability and performance in their lighter forms. When it comes to bindings, you’re getting down to basic physics when you cut out material in pursuit of weight savings. 
So, on this front, the Burner is a clear choice for a splitboard binding platform.
As noted in my comments on Voiles, the Spark touring bracket has a much stiffer connection. On advice from touring partner Nathan, I used the LT brackets and pins, which rely on plastic bushings in the touring bracket and an aluminum pin. I’ve put a lot of hours into the brackets and they show very little wear, a definite bonus over the brass bushings and steel pin combo. Eventually, wear will occur, but this is a robust combo that will stay tight for a long time.
I also like the simplicity of the Spark pin system, in that it’s secured beneath the toe strap, and does not require an attached latch, like Voile. The only way this system will release is some type of catastrophic failure.
The question left unanswered, is whether to stick with the conventional pin, or to go for the Tesla interface. 
My observation thus far, is that I can’t find a good reason to go with Tesla. I think the single best part of the Tesla system is that it should provide a stiffer connection in tour mode because the prongs clamp onto the interface. That being said, there are some known issues with the pins wearing down or breaking, particularly in instances where they were routinely torqued on from the side. If the Tesla pins fail in the field, they can be punched out and replaced with a conventional pin (read, you should still keep that spare in the bag), but that’s a difficult repair to make.
Also, the Tesla system uses riser wires mounted on the bottom of the binding itself. Voile dual riser mounts are known for failure, particular with the forward, touring, riser. The trade off, is that the Tesla’s risers are a bit more tricky to actuate, and require dropping both risers on initial deployment; if you want to use your low riser, you have to engage both wires, then flip the big riser back up into the disengaged position. Nathan also noted that he thinks the sizing of the wire height might be slightly different. We haven't had a chance to compare measurements, but he's definitely noticed a performance difference.
The Tesla also affords the opportunity to lock the heel down in tour mode. In all my years of touring, I’ve had very few experiences where I wanted this feature (side-stepping uphill without skins on split-ski exits is about the only one I can think of). That being said, I’m very comfortable split skiing.
In ride mode, I really can’t see any benefit provided by the Tesla. 
Though ancillary to all of this, I actually like having the conventional pins available as de-icing tools in freeze/thaw conditions. The pins work well to quickly scour out snow and ice from the pucks or rails. 

Burners in action. Photo C.G.

 
Bottom line.
I’ve heard from a few people now, and have seen through my own observations, there is a slight ebb and flow occurring, with a few more folks coming back over to the dark side and splitboarding. This may be localized to AK, but regardless, I can’t help but think part of it is because companies like Spark and Karakoram are innovating and trying new designs (simultaneously, the ride quality of the boards has improved). This is great!
For me, I’m waiting to see someone develop a system that provides the same stability and performance in ride mode presently provided by the puck and pin system. Someone is going to nail it here shortly.

Jackson 2015

Sometime back in September or October, the wheels began to turn, the emails started to go back and forth: winter is coming, and thick or thin, we’ll want to make an exit in late-January.
Colin has been plying us ceaselessly to visit Jackson.

The crew booked their tickets, mobilized, and the AK semi-reunion was on: Cody, Colin, Dan, and Joe descended upon the Cowboy State. Nathan had intended to join as well, and we missed his presence and humor through the trip. 

Small cabin, bunch dudes, bunch of scotch.

 

Day 1, everyone was eager to get down to business and start skiing the resort. While fresh snow was a bit scarce, JHMR is big, and full of nooks and crannies. Colin and crew guided us into the goods, and between runs in the trees, we charged groomers like a GoreTex-clad motorcycle gang.

Skiing with your friends. It's awesome!

I had no idea people were still mono-boarding. Better yet, they are serious.

Certainly not deep, but soft chalk in the shade.

A warm up trend was in the works, and with as strong inversion in place. Temps failed to go below freezing from 8,000-10,000 feet Sunday night.

Colin pointed us into Grand Teton National Park, and we trekked through the cold, thick inversion fog and forests to the foot of Prospectors Mountain to take a stab at the Banana Couloir.
South-southwest facing, the 3,000 foot line was taking a lot of heat. We ID’d a potential issue in the lower 500-700 feet of the line, where about 8-10” of transforming mank sat atop a smooth bed surface. It was soft, but non-reactive as we began the climb in earnest, and as we climbed, the layer was better bonded to the base, eventually becoming nearly undiscernible, likely due to winds that had blown while the snow was still cold.
The climb was a killer: no one was ready for the April-like heat, and the elevation took its toll on the sea-level dwellers. We pushed through, and eventually grouped up about 700 feet-ish below the top, in the shaded shelter of a narrow band of trees, dubbed the nest. Colin lead the final push, and Dan and I followed.
The bulk of the line skied ideally for spring, excellent corn perfect for opening up. We leap frogged our way down.
Near the base, anarchy descended as we exited the couloir and onto the adjacent shoulder we’d skinned.
This was a bad move. We lost sight of each other, and I Forest Gumped and got well ahead and alone. I stopped at the top of the final roll-over. Through a band of trees, I could see a sizable pile of debris where our skin track had been.
As I came to a stop, I pushed two blocks of the manky snow, each about half the length of my board. They rolled, and rolled, and rolled, gaining size and picking up more snow. About mid-slope, they triggered a classic wet slab, and propagation began, running out triangularly, grabbing ever more snow and picking up speed. By the base of the slope, the slide was fluid and fast. If someone got tangled in there, it’d be a bad day.
Shit.
Not good.
I looked again through the trees at the other debris pile. My first concern was that someone might have passed me and been intermixed.
Dan stopped a little ways above me.
He wasn’t sure where everyone else had gone, but I told him what I’d just kicked off.
I wanted to go investigate the adjacent slide, but I was also fearful that I could inadvertently ski below someone else. Suddenly, Dan said he saw Colin and Cody, directly above me, but out of my line-of-sight.
“I’m out of here.”
I shot into the trees toward the other slide, and then skied down the bed surface to the base of the slope and shot into the protection of the woods. I could no longer see the slope above, but didn’t feel safe being below it to keep eyes on.
I sat there, for what felt like a while.
It began to feel like something wasn’t right.
Eventually, the group began to come down.
Apparently, seconds after I’d got out from below Colin and Cody, one of them had inadvertently triggered a slide just as I had. Dan said their slide went exactly where I was standing, and had built up a good deal of speed and mass too.
While we had executed the more aggressive portion of the line by leap frogging from safe spot to safe spot, when we entered what in most conditions would be party ski-terrain, we failed to account for the fact that this area also featured the worst stability we’d seen all day.
Lesson learned.

An inversion trapped thick fog and cooler temps down low. The dreary-ish start was a bit reflective of the early-morning start for a group of AK'rs used to sunrise at 10am.

The base of the line had a lot of pepper.

Gaining ground. Photo: C.G.

Top of the Banana with the Grand in the background

Colin opens it up in the upper section.

A nice perspective.

The next day proved to be warm as well, and we headed back to JHMR. The bump runs came in soft and supple like the best days of March, and we skied them all day.

Coffee break up top.

Photo: C.G.

Sometime that night, my body revolted. The red-eye flights, staying up past my old-man bedtime, an ample supply of adult beverages, yadda-yadda, plus the fact that pretty much everyone I know or worked with had been sick in the weeks leading up to the trip: fate. Larangytis.
I literally could not order breakfast the next morning, although, the barrista thought it was really cute that Cody ordered for me (great).
A rest day helped, but as the rest of the crew split for points north, south, and east, I was happy to spend the next few days sleeping in, and getting some rest, and going to Teton Pass with Colin in the afternoons to successfully hunt for shaded powder in the trees.
I really got a kick out of skiing Teton Pass. A ridiculously short drive from town, and even shorter from the Village, followed by a ridiculously efficient booter north of the road, lead to incredible front country skiing. The options for going further or deeper on weekends stretched seemingly as far as the eye could see.
I think as much as we were all grateful for Colin showing us around his backyard, we were also a bit envious of the ability to go deep or stay close, and have high-quality skiing, regardless. I sure was.

Photo: C.O.

 

It was great catching up with Colin and spending time with the AK boys, but a huge bonus to this trip is the fact that Tom winters in Jackson.

Tom has actually spent the last 6 winters in Jackson, working in neighboring Yellowstone and Teton national parks, doing an incredible assortment of jobs. I got to hang out with Tom and Sarah mid-week, and then on Saturday, Tom treated me to once-in-a-lifetime trip into America’s crown jewel national park.
This winter, Tom is driving tracked snow coaches into Yellowstone (the roads aren’t plowed in winter, but are instead groomed for travel by the coaches and a limited number of snowmachines). Compared to the bustling summer months, the park is a quiet place this time of year.
Tom had a group heading to the hotel at Old Faithful that would be staying for a couple nights, so he was taking them in, and then had the rest of the afternoon off. I got to ride shot gun as his helper for the day!
On the way in, Tom stopped at some of his favorite spots to let the group out and go for short walks to check out hot springs, waterfalls, and to look for wildlife, while he regaled them in stories about the park’s history and his own experiences hiking and camping there.
We made it to Old Faithful mid-day, and after helping the guests unload from the coach, we picked up a pair of wide touring skis and went for a ski around the geyser basin.
I guess I’ll shut up and let the pics do the talking?

Still matching.

Mt Moran and the Skillet

Tom inspects his rig.

The rigs are a little noisy, but not too bad.

A Bomber.

Steam from the hot springs collects in the form of rime on nearby trees. Despite the clear skies, temps ranged from the negative teens to single digits.

Hoar star

This famous vent is where fishermen would cast out into Yellowstone lake, catch a trout, and swing their fish into the hot water for instant lunch.

Tom takes guesses on temperature of a hot spring before using a laser thermometer to take a reading. Much better than sticking your finger in

Just an afternoon here in America.

The thermal activity underground melts out sections of snow in thin years. Here I demonstrate good kick technique on asphalt

The attire is pretty great.

Crust skating on fish scales isn't easy.

Ultimate pillow line

Ultimate job

Unforgettable day. Thanks Tom!