Slogging through shin-deep corn at 9,000 feet on Mt. Hood, OR, I find myself struggling to keep pace with an energetic 17-year-old. Nainoa Holland (“Nai-no-ah,” meaning “protector of children” or “navigator” in Hawaiian) was born and raised on Maui, where he spent his childhood surfing, skateboarding, and bodyboarding.
When his parents split at age 12, Nainoa faced a difficult decision, stay in his childhood home on Maui or move to Hood River. Drawn by a stronger school system, more skateboarding opportunities—and, unexpectedly, snowboarding—he chose Hood River.
Nainoa is wrapping up his fifth season on snow and his rapid progression has secured him a spot on the 2026 Rev Tour locked in. He’s on his way to achieving his dream of becoming a professional snowboarder. But it isn’t just his talent that sets him apart—it’s the unconventional journey he’s endured to get to where he is today.
Through incredible hardship, Nainoa’s love for the sport has only grown. His story is one of perseverance, resilience, and the strength that comes from staying true to oneself despite tragedy, and it only feels right to hear it in his own words.
With hair as electric as his personality, Nainoa brings a smile to any gathering.
The Snowboarder’s Journal: Let’s start with your life-changing
events in 2020.
Nainoa Holland: I moved to Hood River when I was 12 and a half, with my mom and two of my siblings, Kaiana and Alina. After my 13th birthday, during the peak of COVID in early 2020, my mom was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. It was a hard pill to swallow. At 13, I didn’t know exactly what that meant. My mom, Johanna, was the strongest lady ever, and she did her best to ignore it, and tried to live like there was nothing going on. We lived a normal life, but she was still weak.
She didn’t do any treatment for a year and a half while homeschooling me and my little sister. It created tension as it was new to everybody in the household. I was the only dude in the house. Skateboarding was my escape. I’d stay away from home as much as possible, hanging out with my friends, or at the skate park. Whenever I could leave, I would.
She started chemotherapy at the end of 2021, when things got worse. That’s also when I started snowboarding—at the end of eighth grade.
Did you view snowboarding as a new way to escape?
That winter, I snowboarded a little bit, but since then, I’d say it’s my main source of therapy.
Tell us about your first year competing.
Freshman year was when I really started snowboarding, and I joined the snowboard team at Hood River Valley High School. We competed in halfpipe, banked slalom, and boardercross. That first year, I made it to State and scored the most amount of points out all competitors. During this time, I was still dealing with my mom going in and out of chemotherapy. The doctors would say she was going to be okay and then say: “Never mind. She’s not going to be okay. It’s spreading all over her body.”
What came next?
Sophomore season started off smooth. My mom was doing well, I was winning all the regional competitions, and I was feeling confident. Then, the day before a competition… It was a Friday, let’s see (Nainoa looks at his arm tattoo to check the date)… January 29, 2023.
Each morning, I would always say good morning to my mom before biking to the bus station to head up the mountain. But on this day, I went into her room and she wasn’t lying on her bed. I checked her bathroom, and she wasn’t in there either, though her walking cane was. I looked downstairs, and no one else in the house was awake. So, I went back into her room to check again, and there she was, lying on the floor with her eyes and mouth open.
I woke up my dad, Keith, who was visiting, and told him, “I think mama passed away last night. She’s on the floor, not breathing.” He immediately started CPR, and I called 911. They were asking me all kinds of questions, and I was freaking out, thinking: “Send an ambulance. Why the fuck are you asking me all these questions? Can’t you just get one here?”
That same day, I took the 12 p.m. bus up to the mountain to get my mind off it. I went snowboarding, and when I came home, they had taken her away. The next day, I had a slopestyle competition. I showed up, and I won. But it was definitely brutal.
Thank you for sharing all that.
Tell me about it. Every time I tell it, my voice gets quaky.
At 16, most kids are still figuring out who they are, and you had to face such a big loss. How did snowboarding help you through those tough days?
Other than family, snowboarding is my main source of getting through anything. The day my mom passed away, I went to the mountain. I cried the whole way up, in the lodge, and on the chairlift. But as soon as I started riding my snowboard, I stopped crying. I felt free. I was like: “This is what I want to do for the rest of my life. If I can lose my Mom and still be happy in less than five hours, why would I want to do anything else?” I don’t know exactly how to explain it.
How do you honor your mom’s memory and carry her with you in your journey?
There’s one thing I’ve done since the day before she passed. She gave me a $10 bill when I went up to the mountain, and when I bought my snack, I got twelve quarters back. Those quarters have been in my right pocket on my cargo pants every single day I’ve snowboarded since. I’ve never ridden without them.
Some athletes say pain and hardship can fuel strength and determination. How has losing your mom shaped the way you approach challenges—in snowboarding, in life—and the way you inspire others?
Every time I’m asked about losing a parent or how much it sucks, I say, “Yeah, it sucks—but it’s what made me who I am.” My mom was the kindest person I’ve ever known. Before she passed, I was a cocky little shit. I don’t know if losing her humbled me, but it definitely taught me. If my mom couldn’t live the life she wanted, why wouldn’t I try to live like she did?
I still have a lot to learn but going through all that gave me experience with hard things. I think that’s why a lot of people come to me when they need someone to talk to. I hope my story inspires people, too. If a 16-year-old kid who was an absolute idiot can go through something like that and still live just as happy—or happier—than most people, I think anyone can.
It’s easy to be happy, but it’s just as easy not to be. You have the power to choose. Take it day by day. Some days will suck, but that’s just one day—you’ve got hundreds more. Or maybe you don’t. So you’ve got to make them count.
Nainoa planned to go cork back 3 on this hit at Mt. Hood, OR, but came in a little too hot for his first pass. He ended up doing a 540. I’ll call it a ‘Cat 5.’
Nainoa Holland has Twelve Quarters was originally published in Issue 23.1.
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