In the fantasy world of ski and snowboard films, few mountainous regions have been featured as prominently as Lake Tahoe. With steep, craggy buttresses and a stable snowpack, the short but sweet mountain faces of the Tahoe Sierra have helped define the film genre since its birth.

Of the several local film production companies, Standard Films out of Carnelian Bay is undoubtedly one of the crowned kings. Founded in 1991 by brothers Mike and Dave Hatchett, Standard has produced a feature-length snowboard film every season for 17 years.

Standard’s recipe for success in a saturated extreme sports media market has been simple: Mix progressive backcountry freestyle shots with epic big mountain freeride lines, film it on luscious 16 mm film and present the breathtaking cinematography in a tight package, heavy on blower pow shots and light on obnoxious “lifestyle” filler footage.

The outcome is always the same — a cutting-edge shred flick that stands noticeably above the masses of cookie-cutter huck-and-jib videos.

As a rider and snow porn aficionado, I was thrilled to accept an offer late last month to join Mike Hatchett and the Standard crew for a day of filming in the North Tahoe backcountry. From their first movie, “Totally Board,” to this year’s banger, “Catch the Vapors,” a trained eye can always spot a lichen-covered granite outcrop that is unmistakably North Tahoe. Witnessing Standard’s magic right in my own backyard was sure to be a day I wouldn’t forget.

Arranging the film day with Hatchett the night before, he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. The suspense gnawed at me but added obvious excitement to the day ahead.

Early the next morning I got the call and met the crew at a local snowmobile trailhead. For the day’s shoot Hatchett had brought along Mammoth local Lonnie Kauk and New Zealand native Jake Koia.

Tired from a hard days filming the previous day, Hatchett, Kauk and Koia fussed with their snowmobiles as we rapped about what terrain and snow conditions we had in store. Hearing Hatchett describe fluted spines and steep, well-lit rollovers got everyone pumped to get going. Now we just had to find the keys to Kauk’s sled.

Sad but true, Kauk realized the keys were at home. Undeterred, Kauk doubled up with Koia for the chase into the filming location.

After several miles of on-and-off-trail snowmobiling, we arrived at the first spot Hatchett had in mind. The slightly west-facing rock outcrop looked sick. Perfect for building a mini-takeoff that would toss you a good 40 feet onto a transition below. Kauk and Koia eyed it up and immediately began discussing lines and snow conditions.

Despite interest, it was determined upon inspection that the sunny snow was too sticky for stomping big tricks. We moved on.

The next location we rolled up to had limitless potential. There were tight chutes, steep spines and bulbous rollovers for as far as the eye could see. Though the mountain sides weren’t huge, the terrain was very technical with countless spots to toss tricks and great visibility for filming.

Settling into the spot, Hatchett discussed possibilities with Kauk and Koia. Both riders were looking for outcrops to build a small jump that would boost them over a large step-down drop. Weighing in construction time, available light and snow conditions, decisions were made quickly and the guys got to work on their jump takeoffs. Koia headed out to a more removed area while I helped Kauk build.

By using a natural windlip as a foundation, Kauk’s hit was ready to boost in barely a half hour. Hatchett had his 16 mm Arri-s film camera ready to shoot in minutes, so with a “jumping on three ... one ... two ... three,” Kauk rocketed down the makeshift runway and blasted off into a lofting 540. Arriving back to earth, Kauk touched down and bounced — onto his head.

Immediately zooming over to Kauk, Hatchett told him not to worry and they set it up again. The next go Kauk found his legs and stomped it.

Stoked on the jump, Kauk proceeded to both crash and stick a few more tricks. When he exposed a small rock in the landing, we went to catch Koia.

Koia had been hard at work on top of a small ridgeline rock. He had built a large jump that would hurtle him down the face of the slope. The transitioned landing was easily 500 feet long. Koia could go as big as he pleased.

“One ... two ... three ... dropping ...,” Koia attacked the jump and corked into a wicked 720. Booyah! Stuck the landing! Hatchett and Koia were both psyched. Stomping tricks first go off a jump obviously makes great footage.

Unfortunately, Koia’s next attempt was not as successful. His spin was solid but he got bucked landing smack dab in the middle of his previous track.

Looking to film another feature before the sun set, we moved down the ridge to some natural spine lines that Kauk was keen on. Eyeing them from below, they looked plenty steep and very esthetic. Kauk wasted no time setting a bootpack above them and within the hour he had slayed two technical pow lines in the glowing afternoon light.

Now after 5 p.m, we packed up the cameras and began the journey out. Stopping now and again to revel in the gorgeous sunset, I thought to myself what it would be like to snowmobile and film every day. Back at the parking lot, I asked Hatchett, Koia and Kauk what I had been thinking.

The world-traveling Koia noted it was tiring but worth the work.

“It’s easy to get run down with nonstop traveling and filming,” said Koia. “You know in the end that the hard work is going to pay off, but it can be hard to get motivated when the conditions aren’t perfect.”

Kauk was stoked on all of it.

“Filming in powder every day is sick, for sure,” he said. “When you get in the groove of riding only pow it’s hard as a pro to go back to contests.”

Having been doing it for nearly 20 years, Hatchett remembered seeing a lot of tired sunrises, but was happy to be able to film around home.

“The hardest part is definitely getting up early day after day,” said Hatchett. “But filming in North Lake Tahoe is amazing because the access is incredible and sleeping in your own bed every night is really nice.”

With the sleds loaded and the light waning, high fives were slapped and we said our goodbyes. It had been a great day, full of good pow, sick tricks and hopefully a productive minute of footage for next year’s movie. You can bet I’ll recognize the footage if it does make the cut — the images are still burned on my brain.