Do you remember the first time you clicked into a pair of skis? You cruised down the hill at 0.1 MPH but you were "flying". That feeling of freedom only increased as you gained confidence and technique.
When all the other shit in life hit the fan skiing was there. An outlet, a passion, something to free your mind and soul. Progression was always a plus, but it never really mattered what you got when you went out. Something about cruising around making deep turns, hitting shitty cliffs, or getting a few bullshit tricks on some bullshit jumps kept you hooked. It really doesn't make any sense to a normal person watching from the outside. Why in the actual fuck would anyone waste their time on such a stupid endevour? But like anything else, once you get hooked you know. You feel it, you're a part of something.
As I've gotten older, I've realized my trajectory is pretty shot. I will get shittier and stupid hobbies that make up my life. One of the best things is watching people on the rise. Seeing, people grind that first rail, get that first 3 or just hiking with their friends. Skiing comes with an intoxicating element. No research has dialed what really happens when you ski but there's a certain magic I think we all can agree exists.
Some people want to wander around the mall with there spare time. Some people want to cruise around the mountain with their friends trying pointless tricks that even their mom doesn't pretend to care about. There's something about it, a real intoxication. You could be 2 inches off the ground when you rip away from that sketchy 180 but it doesn't matter. It's the same as if you were 20 feet in the air. You're friggin stoked, and so are your friends.
We participate in this slightly stupid sport because it makes us feel things. A challenge, sense of comraderie, acceptance, or just the rush of hauling ass into a feature to try something that might result in epic failure. Even the fails mean something. When you hit the rail or the ground hard, eating all the shit it makes you feel a live. Nothing is better than getting totally fucked on a rail, and running back up full of madness readynt to give it another try, clicking in with fire in your eyes, and stomping the absolute fuck out of it. These are the moments we live for, the moments that set us free from anything else in our lives.
You know the feeling. It could be your first rail slide, or first 4 out, first 360, or getting a grab on that 7. We're all in this together, and the comraderie developed is huge. That stranger you trained through the jumpline with could become your best friend. It's a wild friggin ride.
So put your skis on, get the hell out there, take some laps, and have some fun. We're only getting older. Now is the youngest you'll ever be.
"If you don't do it this year, you'll be one year older when you do" -The man the friggin myth Warren Miller.
The snows flying, the seasons coming, get out there and get sendy. Never forget why you got into it. That first basic thrill of sliding down a small hill on some shitty skis. 2020 has been a crazy year, but keep your head up, keep a smile on your face, and get after it.
When all the other shit in life hit the fan skiing was there. An outlet, a passion, something to free your mind and soul. Progression was always a plus, but it never really mattered what you got when you went out. Something about cruising around making deep turns, hitting shitty cliffs, or getting a few bullshit tricks on some bullshit jumps kept you hooked. It really doesn't make any sense to a normal person watching from the outside. Why in the actual fuck would anyone waste their time on such a stupid endevour? But like anything else, once you get hooked you know. You feel it, you're a part of something.
As I've gotten older, I've realized my trajectory is pretty shot. I will get shittier and stupid hobbies that make up my life. One of the best things is watching people on the rise. Seeing, people grind that first rail, get that first 3 or just hiking with their friends. Skiing comes with an intoxicating element. No research has dialed what really happens when you ski but there's a certain magic I think we all can agree exists.
Some people want to wander around the mall with there spare time. Some people want to cruise around the mountain with their friends trying pointless tricks that even their mom doesn't pretend to care about. There's something about it, a real intoxication. You could be 2 inches off the ground when you rip away from that sketchy 180 but it doesn't matter. It's the same as if you were 20 feet in the air. You're friggin stoked, and so are your friends.
We participate in this slightly stupid sport because it makes us feel things. A challenge, sense of comraderie, acceptance, or just the rush of hauling ass into a feature to try something that might result in epic failure. Even the fails mean something. When you hit the rail or the ground hard, eating all the shit it makes you feel a live. Nothing is better than getting totally fucked on a rail, and running back up full of madness readynt to give it another try, clicking in with fire in your eyes, and stomping the absolute fuck out of it. These are the moments we live for, the moments that set us free from anything else in our lives.
You know the feeling. It could be your first rail slide, or first 4 out, first 360, or getting a grab on that 7. We're all in this together, and the comraderie developed is huge. That stranger you trained through the jumpline with could become your best friend. It's a wild friggin ride.
So put your skis on, get the hell out there, take some laps, and have some fun. We're only getting older. Now is the youngest you'll ever be.
"If you don't do it this year, you'll be one year older when you do" -The man the friggin myth Warren Miller.
The snows flying, the seasons coming, get out there and get sendy. Never forget why you got into it. That first basic thrill of sliding down a small hill on some shitty skis. 2020 has been a crazy year, but keep your head up, keep a smile on your face, and get after it.
