Tales from a Female Ski Bum

I’ve been trying to sort through all my feelings about the Killington World Cup.
The Beast World Cup.
Our World Cup.

I’ve never been one to be star struck or lose my head over a boy, but I have completely lost myself to this race.  It bothers me, actually, when I realize how connected I feel to this race.  Like a siren calling me, I just can't seem to break away from this weekend.  It's the only days of the year where I would choose not to ski and that frightens me.  What could be so important, so all encompassing that I would not ski in order to watch other ski?
The pageantry.  The energy.   The oneness.
Never have I even felt so a part of something as I do this event.  There is something about this weekend that takes over my very being and I drop skis first into a community of people LIKE ME.  
A people for whom skiing is not just a way of life, but the whole being of your life.  It’s not a team sport, where you chant in circles before a game but a sport where you are ofte…

Opening Day means so many different things to so many different people.

For more than 95% of the world's population, it is a day that means absolutely nothing, just another day where they continue on with their lives in a kind of sad, lost in the doldrums of life kind of way.  A day just like any other, except they can groan about the coming winter season as they see clips on the news and images in their feeds that make them miserable.  A day that reminds them that the harshness of winter, a season that prohibits them from going outdoors and has them complaining about being late to work because they had to scrape snow off their car.  These are the people that get S.A.D. and end up binge watching way too many shows on Netflix to mask the miserableness of their life.

Honestly, I struggle to understand these anti-winter, anti-snow, anti-skiing people.
I have tried.

I spent many years in the real world, away from the joys of opening day, fighting to find people like me.  People who be…

My favorite way to start prepping to ski down mountains?
Why, running & hiking up them, of course!

My current favorite is a 12 mile loop starting at the AT/LT/Catamount parking lot on Route 4 on the Mendon side of the pass around the backside of Pico toward Killington Peak and then down through the resort to Snowshed.
6 miles up; 6 miles down.

The thick canopy and plentiful streams on the ascent keep you cool so that you can push yourself on your training goals. 
What? 
You thought I just stared at the view while tripping out the whole time? That all I do is listen to the mountain and go where it sends me without a care in the world?
While feeling the mountain is primarily what I do while out on the trail, I am ALWAYS focused on being a better, smoother and more efficient skier. No turn is ever without thought, without direct movement and without constant analysis. 
Dryland training adventures are the same. 

1. Quick Feet. 
So important in both skiing lift service and backcoun…

As we approach the fall foliage season,  I know that everyone who lives in Vermont is thinking the same thing:
We are awaiting the blue haired drivers who go so slowly that you know you're going to be late to work yet again.  We get frustrated at the dozens of people at the peak yelling to each other when all we wanted was some peace and quiet to gaze at the rolling mountains of Vermont.  Our faces are stretched from smiling at tourist after tourist as we explain for the 100th time today how the gondola can take you all the way to the top for a beautiful lunch.  Or how we have to, yet again, defend our beautiful state and remind the tourists that there is actually plenty of things to do if you would just open your mind, get out of your car and wander through the woods, or pick up a paddle and explore our many lakes ...

But then there are the moments when you have your own visitor, where you can watch the expression on their face turn from one of exhaustion and frustration at havi…

Where are you in your winter planning?  At this point in the season, I am going through my soft goods collection and making sure that everything is prepped and ready to go.  What exactly does that mean in my household?  It means double checking the spreadsheet and going through each item of clothing checking for rips, weak spots, waterproofing levels, making repairs and picking out a replacement if necessary.  This ends up being about a week's worth of work, but nothing is worse than getting halfway through the season and having to send your hardshell in for warranty - which can be dangerous in the Vermont environment.  Not saying that you necessarily have to have a spreadsheet, but it definitely helps!  Plus, that way you don't spend money to replace something you that works great when you have something else that is disintegrating!

People have often asked me what I wear for skiing, so I have attached my spreadsheet for you all to see.  I am a huge fan of the layering system,…

It's dark as I leave work, usually after 11pm (I'm a bartender, remember) and it could be any season at all - except for the air that surrounds me as I step out the front door.  All summer long, I sigh to myself as the heat blasts me in the face and my shoulders slump, thinking about how hot it will be while I sleep yet again.  As a skier, it's like the worst feeling ever.  The heat, with the heavy, humid air that doesn't seem to move even as you push through it.  It depresses me.

But this past Friday night was different.  I stepped out the door and shivered.  Actually shivered!  I could feel little goosebumps forming and the hairs on my arms starting to stand up ... And I could finally take a big full breathe of that crisp fall like air.  The air felt light and clear, lightning up my spirits.  I just stood there, taking it all in ... and then I remembered that I had brought my flannel with me.  And I smiled, took it out of my bag and felt the oncoming of winter. 

It w…

Last week, my mom & I were going through some junk from my dad's desk when we found a folded up piece of lined paper, faded yellow with age.  As I carefully unfolded the brittle paper and I began to focus on the words, tears began to stream down my face.

It was a poem.

A poem about skiing.





Walking down a pretty roadway
Looking up into the sky
Watching snowflakes that are falling
through lights unto the ground.

I am dreaming of that powder
that once I knew I found
moving lightly through a snow fall
with music all around

For I found a place called heaven
and few around will know
of the beauty you can find
winter flying through the snow

I have found that perfect mountain
where everyone should ski
There dreams of really flying
And now I know I'm free

Skiing high up in the rockies
in a powder that is free
floating over mountain moguls
until we're in our bed.






My mom smiled through her tears. 

"I believe that was the first time your father ever really skied powder," she explained.  His Unc…