Can GoPro Rise Again?

After a series of missteps and market shifts, ceo nick woodman and his team are retrenching. Of all the moments the action- camera pioneer has captured over the years, this is the one that really counts.

- Karl Taro Greenfeld

Nick Woodman, the founder and CEO of GoPro, flew into Vail, Colorado, an hour ago on his private jet. He is two days late for the start of the GoPro Mountain Games, a weeklong festival of kayaking, rafting, rock climbing, and just about anything else you can do at an off-season ski resort while wearing a mounted action camera. But then, Woodman—whom college buddy and current GoPro colleague Justin Wilkenfeld describes as less “a 9-to-5-type guy” than “a hippie surfer”—is often late. ¶ Wearing flip-flops, shorts, and a tank top, Woodman wanders through the tent-covered meadows alongside throngs of action-sports enthusiasts. Passing a funnel-cake vendor, he sniffs something else in the air. Colorado is a popular destination among the GoPro community not just for the adrenaline rush of extreme sports, but also because of plentiful legal weed. When he asks a GoPro events coordinator what he is doing later, the junior staffer avoids eye contact with his boss, shrugs, and a little too adamantly insists, “Nothing. Why?” 

Woodman laughs. 

“It’s like, dude, I don’t care if you’re going to enjoy some extracurriculars,” he says.

The whole week is one big GoPropalooza. Everywhere you look, alongside the occasional toker, there is someone doing something worth capturing on video. A woman paddleboards down a brisk stream. A slack-line walker tiptoes over some rapids. A mountain biker bombs down a ski run. A dog jumps off a dock.