Last week was one of the best of my ski life.
I got invited to rage with Powder magazine’s crew at Jackson, and it was the first time I’ve ever skied the village in good conditions. Awesome people, great skiing and fun as hell vibe. Plus, I got to go on route with Lisa twice, and damn do I miss avalanche control work.
A few other ski trips I’ll always remember:
– When I was 19 and got a job bussing tables and an Alta ski pass and lived in the basement of the Rustler. Epic.
– When it snowed like 1/8 of an inch on the Snowfield at Moonlight and the wind blew just right so it was like skiing on God’s pool table, the Madison Valley resonating 6,000 feet below in my periphery. Oh, wait… that happens all the time. You can find Heaven on the dark side.
– The time we went to Burke for my first ski race ever (I was 12) and it was -47 F before the wind chill. The Indian man who owned the hotel was chewing on a peppercorn or something, which we thought was hilarious, and I made myself sick drinking chocolate milk.
– The first time I went to Cooke City. We skied powder that gave me goosebumps, and I found the jukebox in the Miners’ Saloon.
I’m thankful to my boss and co-workers for making it possible for me to go, and stoked about meeting new friends and finally skiing pow at Jackson in the winter.