Régis Rolland and the Kilomètre Propulsé: When Skis Met Jet Engines
In the vast landscape of extreme sports, few names are etched into legend quite like Régis Rolland. More than just a snowboarder, he was a showman, a pioneer, and at one point, a rocket man strapped to a pair of skis.
Back in the 1980s, long before snowboarding became an Olympic event and GoPro footage flooded social media, Régis Rolland was carving his own narrative — quite literally — down the French Alps. While most of the world was still getting used to the idea of people standing sideways on snowboards, Rolland was starring in surreal action-sports films and experimenting with jet-powered skiing. One of his most iconic — and absurdly brilliant — moments was the Kilomètre Propulsé, where he flew across the snow on skis powered by jet engines.
Let’s rewind and unpack how this all came to be.
Régis Rolland was born in 1960 in Grenoble, the heart of the French Alps. He came of age in an era where skiing dominated the slopes and snowboarding was seen as a rebellious, niche sport imported from the U.S. West Coast. But Rolland saw the future. And he didn’t just ride it — he filmed it.
In 1983, he starred in Apocalypse Snow, a low-budget action film directed by Didier Lafond that would go on to become a cult classic. The plot? Basically James Bond on snow. Chase scenes, stunts, explosions — and Rolland at the center, snowboarding down mountains with unparalleled flair.
This was not entertainment. Rather, Apocalypse Snow was the French snowboarding manifesto. It introduced an entire generation of European youth to the thrill of carving, jumping, and free-riding. Rolland, clad in his iconic trench coat and steely stare, became the face of a countercultural movement on snow.
The Kilomètre Propulsé: Jet-Engines Meet French Ski Tradition
To fully appreciate the insanity of the Kilomètre Propulsé (KP), you need to understand the French alpine tradition that inspired it: the Kilomètre Lancé (KL)— or “launched kilometer.” In this high-speed discipline, skiers attempt to hit the fastest possible velocity over a one-kilometer straight descent, often reaching speeds north of 200 km/h using nothing but gravity, aerodynamics, and courage. It’s a pure adrenaline rush, and a badge of honor among elite skiers.
Régis Rolland took this concept and cranked it to eleven.
There was no green screen. No CGI. This was all real: custom-engineered gear, live turbines, and Rolland himself strapped in and ready to blast off.
And obviously, there were no brakes!
Once those jets ignited, Rolland was fully committed. To avoid catastrophe, the team had to find a very specific type of terrain — a long, straight flat with an uphill slope at the end. That gentle incline would act as the only way to decelerate, using gravity as the natural brake. No margin for error. Just speed, skill, and precision.
It wasn’t just a stunt, but also a masterclass in (calculated? insane?) risk.
Why He Did It
You might ask: Why would anyone do this?
Régis Rolland didn’t see snow as just something to ride on. For him, it was a blank canvas. The Kilomètre Propulsé wasn’t about breaking speed records — it was about breaking mental barriers. Could you imagine a snowboarder on fire in the middle of an avalanche (another scene from Apocalypse Snow)? Could you imagine jet engines on skis?
He could. And he made you believe it too.
This was the early essence of extreme sports storytelling: take something raw and risky, film it, and inspire the next generation to dream bigger.
From Legend to Legacy
After his cinematic adventures, Rolland continued shaping the sport — literally.
In the mid-1980s, he launched Apocalypse Surf, one of the first snowboard shaping workshops in the French Alps. Operating out of a small facility tucked away in the mountains, the shop became a creative playground for building the future of snowboarding in Europe. There, Régis collaborated with Bernard “Gégène” Gervasoni, a skilled craftsman who played a pivotal role in designing and refining some of the first generation of French-made boards, including the famous swallowtail snowboards.
Together, they experimented with shapes, materials, and flex profiles at a time when snowboarding was still considered a fringe sport. Most boards on the market were American imports designed for powder — not ideal for the steeper, icier terrain of the Alps. Apocalypse Surf was different. More than a shop, it was a lab, a clubhouse, and a movement. Their boards were raw, rebellious, and tailored for European riders.
This grassroots operation eventually evolved into APO Snowboards, which helped bring snowboarding gear to a wider audience across Europe. Rolland’s entrepreneurial efforts, alongside Gervasoni’s craftsmanship, helped snowboarding gain a firm foothold in the region — paving the way for what’s now a global industry.
Though APO Snowboards closed in 2015, the legacy lives on in countless riders, brands, and creatives who grew up watching Apocalypse Snow on VHS tapes, dreaming of alpine chases and fire-spitting skis.
Final Thoughts: The Art of Doing Something Crazy
The Kilomètre Propulsé remains one of the most audacious moments in action-sports history. It was impractical, unnecessary, and borderline insane. But it was also brilliant.
In an age where most athletes stick to the expected, Rolland chased the impossible. He turned mountains into movie sets, and sports into sci-fi. He didn’t snowboard: he performed.
And while today’s generation has Red Bull ramps and drone footage, Régis Rolland had something more powerful: a vision that didn’t care if people thought it was crazy.
Jet-powered skiing? Of course. Why not?
Want to see it in action?
Search for Apocalypse Snow clips online or dig into documentaries about Rolland’s career. And next time someone tells you your idea is too wild — tell them about the French guy who skied with jet engines and no brakes.
Note: For more insights into Régis Rolland’s pioneering role in European snowboarding, check out this Whitelines interview.
