Powdium — the mountain keeps score

Friends at breakfast. Rivals by first lift.

Everybody who has ever spent a day on the mountain with a group already knows who got down first, who bailed at three, and who is quietly counting their runs. Powdium records the day the way you'd expect — runs, lifts, vertical, distance, all automatic — and then does the part nobody else does: it settles the argument, live, all day.

The gap. Not your total. The number of metres between you and first place, updating all day. It's the difference between a statistic and a decision — 438 m is one more run and you know it.

The chase. Pick someone ahead of you and Powdium tracks the gap closing, run by run. Your watch buzzes the moment you take the lead. It also buzzes when you lose it.

Level Play. Out with people of wildly different ability? Everyone races a private target set from their own form. Nobody sees anyone else's. An eleven-year-old can genuinely beat their dad.

The story. At the end of the day it tells you what actually happened. Who led longest. Who came back from fourth. Whether the winner was really riding less time than the person complaining about lunch.

Conquer the mountain. Every piste starts dark and lights up the first time you take it. Because sometimes you get beaten by four thousand metres and want something else to have achieved.

Never a speed leaderboard. Your top speed is recorded and shown. It is never ranked, sorted or raced. Rewarding people for going fast on a piste full of strangers is a genuinely bad idea and we've built the app so it can't happen.

We know. That's largely why this exists.

We used snoww and we loved it. It counted your runs without being asked, and it made a whole season feel like something. Then in April 2024 it stopped, and everybody's history went with it.

We are not snoww, and this is not snoww coming back. Different people, a different company, no shared code and no shared data.

We are building this because we miss it. And because losing years of your own days should not be something an app can do to you.

So we wrote down what happens if we ever stop — before we wrote the app. Not as a feature. As a published commitment with numbers in it, which you can hold us to.

01. Your data leaves whenever you like Full export, standard formats, one tap. Not buried in settings and not a favour we do you.

02. A copy lands on your own device Automatically, on a schedule, to your own iCloud or Files. It doesn't ask us for permission.

03. A whole season of warning If we ever wind down: at least 180 days, spanning a complete ski season, everything working throughout.

04. The reader is already open source Published now, not promised for later. Reading your own history has never depended on us being here.

Free keeps every day you ever ride.

We're not going to hold your history hostage to sell you a subscription — that's the exact behaviour this app exists in reaction to. What's paid for is the game built on top of your days, never access to the days themselves.

Show in

Free

£0forever

Every day you ever ride, kept
The live leaderboard and the gap
The chase
Party map — where everyone is
Join any championship
Badges

Season Pass

£19.99a year

Coverage map
Replay of your day
Rivalry records across seasons
Season totals and trends
Offline maps
Create championships

Slopes Premium is £25.99.

Trip Pass

£12.99once, never expires

Everything in the Season Pass
14 days, up to 8 people
For everyone on the trip
Bought once, by whoever organises

£1.62 a head. Slopes' family plan is £49.99 for five.

Prices outside the UK are approximate — the App Store sets the exact amount for each country, and other currencies are converted by it.

£99 once. Then never again.

The most common complaint about the app most people use is that there's no way to just buy it. Fair enough. So we're saying yes to that, once — for the first thousand people, in the first season only.

The Season Pass is £19.99 a year, so this pays for itself in five seasons — and most people ski for a good deal longer than that.

And "lifetime" means the lifetime of the app, said plainly. Nobody can promise you sixty years of software, and we're not going to be the company that implies it. If Powdium is ever sold, the pass binds whoever buys it — that goes in the sale documents rather than being left to goodwill, because a company being acquired is the usual way a lifetime purchase quietly dies.

The mountain
keeps score.