Kass Kuykendall sat in a parked car on a humid Florida afternoon in 2020, sweating under a beanie and clutching hot coffee, chasing the feeling of a winter she knew wouldn’t come.
After several years as a self-described surf bum living in tropical climates, she knew it was time for a change. It took Kuykendall 12 months to reroute her life to Park City and learn to ski, making it the first place she had settled permanently in years.
“I really missed the seasons and the snow,” she said.
Born in Colorado Springs and raised in a small farm town in eastern Washington, Kuykendall learned to snowboard at a small local hill in high school. She moved around between Peru, Florida and California, riding weekends at nearby ski resorts when she could, before moving to Utah.
Park City had always lingered in her imagination, Kuykendall said. She was unable to shake the image of a true ski town as she bounced between surf spots.
When Kuykendall finally moved here, she came for the same reason many do: to build a life in the mountains surrounded by people chasing the same rhythm of snow, adventure and connection.
What began as a ski-bum chapter a few seasons ago quickly grew into a vision of the life Kuykendall wanted to build, she said.
“My first winter here was in 2022, the epic winter. And we were just getting buried alive. And every day was better than the next. I was like, ‘I’m here forever,’” she said.
Kuykendall worked seasonal jobs to get by when she first arrived in Park City, like picking up shifts in local ski maintenance shops, which is where she learned from older pros and absorbed the fine details of ski care.

At the same time, she found a community that felt both familiar and supportive — the kind of place where organizations like the Women Entrepreneurs of Park City offered access to mentors willing to share hard-earned business and ski town wisdom.
“The longer that I live here, the more I realize how small of a town it is in all of the best ways. You start to see the same faces. People here have consistently poured into me with their time, advice and wisdom. That says a lot about this community,” said Kuykendall.
It sparked not just a love for the mountain lifestyle but a drive to find a way to sustain a life within it for the long term.
Ski techs and mentors with decades of experience helped Kuykendall refine her process. But at the same time, she said she saw how the ski industry often operated with high-volume shops prioritizing speed over care, customers left with little explanation of what was done to their gear.
“In some shops I worked in, I couldn’t confidently say skis always left better than they came in,” said Kuykendall.
She learned fast in high-volume shops, but Kuykendall also witnessed how a pure volume model can shorten the lifespan of ski gear.
“The machines drive the quantity of skis they can service; they don’t drive the quality or life of the ski,” she said.
She wanted to be able to open the back door of the shop and invite customers into the tuning process so they would better understand how to respect and protect their gear.
So, Kuykendall launched Emergenskis, a mobile tuning business aiming for quality craftsmanship, communication and convenience, last winter.
Instead of prioritizing volume, Kuykendall wanted to show people what was happening to their gear, explain why it mattered and deliver the kind of consistent, high-quality care she felt the industry neglected.

Emergenskis is a way for Kuykendall to give back to the community that has supported her, while carving out a sustainable path to stay rooted in the mountains she now calls home. She said it’s important to share what you know by letting people into the experience so they can see why it matters.
“A half a degree on the edge angle, or the base bevel, can make a difference between blowing out a knee or not. Between sliding down the hill or actually skiing,” Kuykendall said. “There’s such a lack of knowledge. People don’t know how often to tune, whether storage wax is necessary or how to keep their skis performing. My goal is to offer clarity and certainty so you know your skis will do what you need them to for as long as they can.”
For Kuykendall, the business starts with respect and understanding. She believes there’s a stronger culture of conversation, trust and connection within the ski community when more skiers understand and respect their equipment and the people who work on it.
Kuykendall said that a culture of respect and understanding makes the industry itself more sustainable, giving the people who love it a better chance to build lasting careers and remain in the mountain towns they call home.
“Working on skis is such a specialized craft, and most of the people I know who were incredible techs had to leave because they couldn’t make a living. My goal is to set up a model where people can make a wonderful living wage and actually have a positive career in the ski industry,” said Kuykendall.
After a successful first season of running Emergenskis full-time, Kuykendall found the gap in the industry was bigger than needing quicker turnarounds and better explanations on gear maintenance. She felt that people needed longer-term care to help skis perform season after season instead of deteriorating in storage or poor tuning jobs.
Kuykendall recently started Eleve, a year-round ski management membership that will be opening to clients this winter. Members begin with a preseason consultation, covering how often you ski, what you ski, where and how you store gear, travel plans and goals for the season.
Then she writes a plan, deciding the year-round cadence of light maintenance and deeper work, how to adjust bases, edges and wax for storms, spring or park skiing and riding. Kuykendall is focused on a small roster of around 20 clients to ensure depth of service.

Off-season, she offers temperature- and humidity-controlled storage and applies storage wax to rehydrate bases through Utah’s dry summers. Kuykendall also preps skis for the fall.
“It’s about keeping skis in peak performance for as long as possible instead of burning through them for the sake of shop volume,” she said.
Kuykendall sees Eleve not only as a benefit to customers but also as a way to stabilize careers for skilled technicians who often leave the industry due to low wages or seasonal uncertainty. She hopes to create jobs where people can stay, grow and thrive in the ski industry by focusing on consistency and quality instead of sheer output.
Emergenskis will continue to handle on-demand work for the broader community, while Eleve offers tailored, season-long management for those who want to invest in their gear and experience.
The businesses are her way of staying tethered to Park City, honoring the community that welcomed her and building something that could shift the culture of an industry she loves.
By slowing down, prioritizing quality and opening up the process to her clients, Kuykendall hopes to make skiing more accessible, sustainable and rewarding for both customers and the people who tune their gear.
“Ultimately, skiing is about fun,” she said. “If I can help people feel more confident on the hill, and give techs like me a way to keep doing this work for the long term, then that feels like a win for all of us.”
