When I woke up sick and exhausted I didn't exactly have high hopes for my day. I was set on survival mode ready to coast through and forget about it. If I had the option I would have skipped right past it. Had I done that I would have missed the best day ever.
What makes the best day? is the best day really the best day ever, and does it even matter honestly. Somedays the weather, the crowds, the snow, all the variables in the sky align for your perfect day. There's something deeply compelling about those turns, runs, and those days. Something beyond words, but a feeling all of us can share. Whether it's the deepest east coast pow day you've seen, tit's deep blower out west, or just cruising or shredding the park.
Your mood, the snow, your friends. There are so many things that need to align for that ultimate ascension of stoke. When it does it's one of the most powerfully moving forces. It's the drive that keeps us out there. It keeps us hiking that rail, skinning for turns, getting those perfect g's on a lightly peeling groomer in the sun. Those chairlift beers, the laughs, and party lines through the trees or parks. Something about the certain day, when everything lines up, sometimes when you need it most.
Things just pop, the comfort in the park, the groove in your turns, just getting it for the hell of it with your best friends and nothing can beat that.
Sometimes that's really all that matters. The hunger for those days is why we keep skiing. They may be fleeting but they're out there to be found for anyone who puts in the time, and opens themselves up. Sometimes they sneak up on us. Sometimes it isn't the chest deep pow, but a day we make the best of, but when these days happen, we absolutely know it.
We don't necacaialilly expect, but we definatly hpe that each of those days walking from the car will end in a return trip grinning from ear to ear. That sort of inconsoleable stoke that can't be put into words but we've all experienced.
The big things, the small things, a mix of all the things. When it comes together, it fucking comes together. Cheers to those days, and wishing to be back out there soon with all of you.
These are some wild, dark, and absolutely unprecidented times. That said, we'll get through this. This winter, and some of our summer plans died early, but next winter will come and it's going to be a good one. Will it be the best season? Will we get the most snow? Who knows, the jury is out on that one but if you get out there you're going to have at least one of the best days ever.
So fuck the past, the early end to the season, and any bitter thoughts. Next season is coming, let the stoke grow, because it's gonna be a friggin good one.
What makes the best day? is the best day really the best day ever, and does it even matter honestly. Somedays the weather, the crowds, the snow, all the variables in the sky align for your perfect day. There's something deeply compelling about those turns, runs, and those days. Something beyond words, but a feeling all of us can share. Whether it's the deepest east coast pow day you've seen, tit's deep blower out west, or just cruising or shredding the park.
Your mood, the snow, your friends. There are so many things that need to align for that ultimate ascension of stoke. When it does it's one of the most powerfully moving forces. It's the drive that keeps us out there. It keeps us hiking that rail, skinning for turns, getting those perfect g's on a lightly peeling groomer in the sun. Those chairlift beers, the laughs, and party lines through the trees or parks. Something about the certain day, when everything lines up, sometimes when you need it most.
Things just pop, the comfort in the park, the groove in your turns, just getting it for the hell of it with your best friends and nothing can beat that.
Sometimes that's really all that matters. The hunger for those days is why we keep skiing. They may be fleeting but they're out there to be found for anyone who puts in the time, and opens themselves up. Sometimes they sneak up on us. Sometimes it isn't the chest deep pow, but a day we make the best of, but when these days happen, we absolutely know it.
We don't necacaialilly expect, but we definatly hpe that each of those days walking from the car will end in a return trip grinning from ear to ear. That sort of inconsoleable stoke that can't be put into words but we've all experienced.
The big things, the small things, a mix of all the things. When it comes together, it fucking comes together. Cheers to those days, and wishing to be back out there soon with all of you.
These are some wild, dark, and absolutely unprecidented times. That said, we'll get through this. This winter, and some of our summer plans died early, but next winter will come and it's going to be a good one. Will it be the best season? Will we get the most snow? Who knows, the jury is out on that one but if you get out there you're going to have at least one of the best days ever.
So fuck the past, the early end to the season, and any bitter thoughts. Next season is coming, let the stoke grow, because it's gonna be a friggin good one.
