Skiing is nostalgic and now undeniably, just like riding a bike. I learned how to ski with my dads belt tied around my waist as he held it out in front of him, guiding me down the mountain between his two skis. My family and I spent numerous weekends and school breaks during the winter at places like Stowe, Okemo, Stratton, Killington, Waterville Valley, Sugarloaf. And every Wednesday in Elementary school, my brother and I were bused up to Berkshire East in an after school program.
How did I get so lucky to have an athletic mom and dad who enjoyed culturing us with so many things when we were kids?! Grateful is an understatement, but little did I know, they were holding out on us! They didn’t tell us there was such a thing as skiing in fresh powder out West. A place like Vail gets snow, sometimes sixteen days in a row. In the North East, we weren’t accustomed to those conditions because it didn’t snow nearly as much and the snow makers simply couldn’t produce anywhere close to that. Anyone I speak to who regularly hits the slopes out West, scoffs at the the icy conditions I was subjected to my whole life. Once you experience the unreal conditions in Colorado, you will be turned into a skiing/snowboarding snob and will never go back to such “poor conditions” you once knew. And now I know why.