I grew up skiing, I was lucky enough to have had my dad put me on skis before I was 5, unlucky enough that we lived in South Carolina. My family made yearly trips to Boone each year until I was in middle school and entering high school it was my mission to go as much as possible… like once my entire 4 years. (That doesn’t diminish my dads and i love for skiing, we watched competitions together and shit like yearly that but unfortunately never made it to the slopes ourselves)

I went to college instate so again only got the opportunity twice with some friends. But every time I went I was sure to call my dad and tell him the conditions of the day, he always seems so happy and jealous of me.

Now I’m graduated and moved to the Rockies, alone and got a job on a mountain for the season. Bought my first set up so I am no longer using rental garbage.

I doubt my dad will ever make it out here in the winter because of family obligations which in reality is the reason he stoped skiing in the first place. Which makes me feel like total shit because I lost my best skiing partner.

It’s super hard for me knowing that he will only probably ever see me ski on video now. Especially since the familial obligation is not going anywhere anytime soon.

Anyways, today was the first day I got to ski and I’ll be going as much as possible this whole season (hoping to advance my park skills a little) For myself and for my dad… to shove it in his face.

I always like to remember that people come and go but the mountains remain… don’t let the snow go to waste.