Chasing storms is all part of skiing. Well, for most of us. It’s hard not to look at ski reports, track weather patterns on NOAA and be envious of friends’ Instagram feeds. It must be a human trait, jealously… or more accurately, the longing to share. Maybe even to receive acknowledgement. Facebook and Instagram are great mediums to receive “likes,” or what I like to call “back pats.”
Now I would be a liar if I said I snap photos simply for their intrinsic value because I, like the millions of social media users, thrive on connectivity. But I have slowly, more in the past year, started to realize that although we are more connected than ever in this day and age, we are also more distant. Birthday messages come through the hundreds via Facebook, which at first was uplifting, but now seems to be more of a courtesy than anything—I’d much prefer a birthday dinner with two friends than receive 200 Facebook messages. And that brings me to powder skiing, or simply skiing … maybe just life.
I recently made the hop, skip and jump along the I-15 corridor, hitting up backcountry spots south of Springville, revisiting some of my favorite lines at Snowbird and charging gondo laps at Snowbasin.
I now write this post in Helena, Montana, in a good friend’s kitchen. Last night we reminisced on our past year, sharing the hard moments and funny tales that make up life. Now you ask, what does this have to do with skiing, especially skiing Teton Pass outside Jackson. Simply this: To me, skiing goes far beyond the self-centered “No friends on a powder day” mentality that so-many-of-us suffer from and reaches into the altruistic realm. To me skiing is about sharing. It can be a cold, sun-baked crust kind of day, but if you are with good people that make you smile, make you laugh, help you recover from some unfortunate life event, then sign me up for all the shitty days.
But when there’s powder… life becomes glorious.
Thanks for the epic days Jack, Pat, Morgan, Cara and Michael!