The Worst Season Ever?

I could’ve let the whole lack of snow thing ruin the season, (I know it did for far too many snobs this year) but I realized that I had more fun this year than any other I can remember. It wasn’t about going bell to bell six straight days with over six inches of fresh falling every night, or about the 26″ day I caught over Martin Luther King Jr. weekend and how I had fourth chair on six chair at Breck, or about going out and trying to one up the guy I’d inevitably have to out-show-off at the bar later that night, but somehow it reverted back to just going out and having more fun than you.

And that is exactly what I did. My friends and I laughed (cried sometimes because we were laughing so hard), we tanned on the T-Bar patio like champions in the middle of January, we visited public art installations at a mountain near you, and we had a darn good time.

Snowfall was poor this year, I had very few powder days and I had plenty of time to chase storms. Although, no matter what the snow is doing the worst day skiing is better than the best day working.

That was really driven home this year, I always knew it and took it to heart, but after skiing rock filled lines in February at Snowmass and hooting and hollaring over the half inch (Breck reported 4″) in late March it dawned on me how true it really was. I spent the winter attempting to chase snow (Japan worked out, Jackson and Crested Butte not so much), I attempted to find love (that didn’t work out so well either), and I found myself instead.

There’s something about 4000+ miles behind the wheel of your car in a 3.5 month span that gives you a lot of introspection. Time to assess what is important: the gear, the activities, and the people. Don’t get me wrong I love buying new skis, outerwear, boots, all of that. And I love going out apres-ing on a Wednesday night because we got through the workday. But in the end what really matters to me is going to the mountain and clicking into my bindings with the people who matter most, my friends.

I had a conversation with my Dad a few weeks ago, we talked about how skiing isn’t just a way to get outside, a way to exercise, or a way to keep in touch. It’s a way to live, there’s more to it than just the physical act of sliding down a hill. I’ve beaten this topic to death in hopes that one time it will come out on paper how it feels inside. It never does, and that’s because skiing isn’t a tangible activity. It is a spiritual, emotional, and physical event; rooted deep within a skier’s psyche. This season it was evident who skied and who was a skier.

Those of us who think it was ‘The Worst Season Ever’ ski, and those of us who know it’s just another year in the books, ski.

So let’s put the boards away, throw some storage wax on them and get out the bikes, golf clubs, surfboards, or whatever it is that fills our summers. For some of us these hold just as much joy, but for a few they offer chances to get out in the mountains, oceans, and parks to play and get close to that winter time high. We might not be skiing, but hey October is only a little over four months away, we can dream for an early season right?