How to be a Skier

The topics covered here frequently assume a certain level of familiarity with skiing and ski culture, and I understand that this can be alienating for some readers in southern California, Texas, and New Jersey. This is not my intention. To appeal to a larger cross section of our Obviously-The-Best-Ever-But-About-To-Be-Made-Much-More-Greaterer Nation, I’d like to offer a few pointers on how to be a skier in the hopes that moving forward we can enjoy the best season of the year together.

Step 1. Talk Loud

The principle responsibility of any skier is to inform the people around him of his intentions. To do this most effectively, I suggest speaking clearly and audibly at all times, and especially when discussing the epic-sicky pow and how much gnar you will definitely shred this coming weekend. This is most effective in public trains, baggage claim areas, and bars with PBR specials, but is also applicable for fancy restaurants, wedding receptions, and first dates. Be sure to focus on what you’re definitely about to do, not what you have actually done.

Step 2. Dress Like an Aquarium Fish

Sometimes simply speaking loudly isn’t enough, or you’re too busy on the shot ski to state your shredding intentions. When this happens your clothing should speak on your behalf. When you dress yourself in the morning, avoid blacks, browns and understated patterns. Mauve is out. Earth tones are only allowable if they are actually digital camouflage. Goggles should be mirrored and imposing. When in doubt, leave the helmet at home.

Step 3. Go Fast; Huck Your Meat

It used to be there was a time way back in the day when skiing was difficult. The hard men and women of mountain towns across the world would tie themselves to a couple of old floor joists with leather straps, take a nip of schnapps, and point ’em downhill – damn the torpedoes. Simply surviving the run from top to bottom was a feat of strength, finesse, and emotional fortitude. A very few people on earth had the technique to make it look good.

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Toni Matt knew how to be a skier.

These times are no more. With all the newfangled shaped skis and powerful boots, the equipment pretty much just does its thing. The skier is just along for the ride – no technique required. And so to demonstrate your superiority, it’s important to go as fast as possible and jump off the highest cliff you can find. Remember, no one cares if you land it. Disregard other, slower mountain users. If they were real skiers they would be going faster.

Step 4. Make Fun of Snowboarders

While you’re out sliding over snow with a board strapped to each foot, you may notice some jobless Communists out there sliding over snow with both feet strapped to a single board. Be sure to ridicule these people, they are of a lesser class. Everyone knows the only way to really enjoy sliding over snow is with two different boards. It is well documented in the that when people slide over snow with only one board it means their parents were siblings and they are of substandard intelligence and really they should feel lucky they’re allowed outside at all. You can’t argue with science.

Step 5. Drink Enough Booze

You can’t always be the best skier on the mountain, but that shouldn’t stop you from being the best drinker in the bar. To be clear- as soon as you’ve put on ski boots, you’ve gone skiing. There is no need to actually go outside. So take that shot of Fireball. Order up another bucket of PBR. Just be sure to talk loud while you’re drinking.

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Nutrition Tips for the Dirtbag Athlete

Many of you have made your way to this site out of a shared passion for being outside. We share a zeal for crisp October mornings, in light snow and in coffee before dawn. In starry desert nights, in finally sending your project, and in cold beers with good friends after a long day on the trail.

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Fuel for the trail ahead.

But getting to the end of a long day in the mountains means, well, that you need to make it to the end of the day. You can have all the right gear and great fitness, but to survive a 10,000 foot day of ski touring, you need to eat right.

And in the spirit of the other week’s primer on setting skintracks, I’d like to offer a few nutrition tips on how best to keep your energy up for the long day ahead:

  • Finish your buddy’s breakfast – Nothing says “I’m really looking forward to having my life entirely in your hands this afternoon” like asking, “are you going to finish that?” while you’re topping off the tank before the trailhead. This is most effective after not ordering breakfast yourself, and mentioning that you ate at home. In the awkward time between the last refill of coffee and paying the check, start picking at stray hashbrowns on your partner’s plate and go from there.
  • Bacon by the pound – There’s a strong correlation between towns with good skiing and towns with hipster grocery stores. There’s also a strong correlation between hipster grocery stores and food buffets that charge by the pound. When confronted with a by-weight eatery, the intrepid dirtbag knows better than to waste precious grams on things like potatoes, condiments, and vegetables.
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    Pepperjack cheese is often overlooked as a staple.

    In Missoula, at the Good Food Store, the hot bar price is $7.50 per pound, regardless of what’s on your plate. Well, my friends, that hot bar has bacon on it, and bacon is hard to come by raw for much less than $7.50/lb. Load up on cooked bacon at a discount, and if you can’t finish it with breakfast, be sure to lay in stores of pocket-bacon for a pre-lunch snack.

  • Hostess – The great staple of poor athletes: Hostess. The first time I rode my bike more than 100 miles, it was actually 135 miles. I was about 19, inexperienced, and riding with much stronger companions. The only way I survived to collapse into my tent was with the gratuitous ingestion of Hostess Fruit Pies and gas station burritos. In 2012 Hostess Brands faced bankruptcy and liquidated warehouses of product. Those savvy consumers in the audience stocked up when the market was hot.
  • Gels – Gels go by many names: gel, gu, etc. They are generally vile, but do offer a couple of real benefits. They’re an excellent proxy for how tired you are; if the gel tasted good, and maybe you’d like another, then you are very, very tired. The marketing departments will tell you that their proprietary blend of simple carbohydrates and electrolytes is easy your stomach and will keep you energized to perform your best; the scientists will tell you that that’s what PopTarts are for. Never pay for gels. They can be found slowly coagulating in the bottom of of every 10k race packet on earth, next to the car wash coupons and safety pins.
  • PB&J – Gels can snatch you from the depths of hypoglycemic despair, but there’s a limit to what the soul can endure. Better men that me have been fundamentally broken by diets too rich in “sports product.” The bread and butter of the dedicated dirtbag athlete is, literally, bread and butter. Peanut butter, that is, with a little jelly and, (if you’re feeling fancy) some banana. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich is as simple and reliable as it is time tested. More first ascents have been powered by PB&Js than by any other food source[citation needed], so throw a couple in your pocket and hit the trail.
  • Michelada – The dreamers among us know that no today can beat the promise of tomorrow, and it’s important to be well rested and ready for the next big thing. For proper recovery, I recommend a specifically tuned blend of electrolytes, carbohydrates, and the anti inflammatory properties of alcohol: The Bud Light Michelada. It’s spicy, it’s refreshing, it’s technically got vegetables. You earned it, so crack one on the drive home.

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Crappy Limericks Vol. 1: Notes from the Skintrack

The forecast brought tidings of powder,
And the weatherman’s warnings grew louder.
“On ice cars will skate,
The storm skiers will sate,”
Instead Friday served soupy warm chowder.

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Now we’ve all got that best friend we hate,
“At the trailhead, I’ll meet you at eight!”
The alarm time they dread,
Eight still finds them in bed,
On Saturday both Bens ran late.

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One Ben won’t leave town unfed,
The other (for one night) was wed,
‘Spite an evening of ale,
That Ben broke all the trail,
And should really have left me for dead.

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Daybreak that morning was pale,
Soft light bathed the peaks to be scaled,
The party was spritely,
I walked in back rightly,
My legs had the heft of a whale.

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Short days and my fitness pair nicely,
Fall training I have taken lightly,
But days now get longer,
In March I’ll be stronger,
So long as I hike the Bowl nightly.

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In rev’rence we reached the top somber,
Until Matt regaled us like songbirds,
“Here’s to good friends!
The means earn the ends!”
We dropped in to find snow, deep and bomber.

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How Was The Skiing, Really?

This time of year ski conditions tend to be pretty variable from day to day. Where last week it might have been twenty below and windy, tomorrow it could rain to 8,000 feet. The snowpack tends to be a little thin, and weather in the valley is frequently wildly different from weather in the mountains. As the season is starting to ramp up, the quality of the skiing is kind of a crapshoot.

Because of this, most water cooler and brewery conversations starting around Columbus Day John Lennon’s birthday navigate toward whether you’ve been skiing, where you went, and how it was up there. This is a highly subjective kind of conversation. Some people are only interested in deep powder, others just like being out in the mountains, and others allow their definition of “good skiing” to shift with the tone of the season. If it’s been nothing but breakable crust for a month, after all, a non-breakable crust starts to look pretty good.

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More often than not, it seems like people feel a need to justify the time and effort they spent to go find snow, which leads to palpable inflation in the quality of the skiing between the time your roommate took off her boots and the time that you met her for a pint. If you’re looking for a reliable story, you’re better off asking your grandfather about the biggest fish he ever caught than your buddy how the skiing was on Halloween.

What’s interesting about these early season conversations is how much superlative language is used to describe skiing that tends to be subjectively marginal. In fact there seems to be an inverse relationship to how fantastic the reports of skiing are, and how good the skiing really was.

So how was the skiing, really? Here are some helpful hints.

“Bro, so epic.” – No it wasn’t. Aside from being categorically wrong, it probably didn’t even meet any of today’s lax standards. The powder was not over their head. They probably hit a bunch of rocks. This person is really just trying to show that they’ve been out already, and have insider knowledge that you, the patient skier who approaches skiing by the season or by the lifetime, do not. Don’t sweat it.

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Epic, bro.

“It was awesome up high.” – It was pretty good, after a terrifying drive and a long walk. Worthwhile? Probably. The best skiing since last February? Certainly not. The season’s just getting going, but if you’ve got a day to spend sniffing around for a turn or two, head to the alpine!

“Not too bad, actually.” – Right here in an honest answer. Hit any rocks up there? You know it. Buried trees and willow? Yep. Carry the skis for a while before even putting them on? Probably. But way back there, the skiing was nice. Maybe they found an inch or two of soft snow on a rain crust. Maybe they found a few hundred feet of sastrugi to lap. Whatever they found, it scratched the itch for Thanksgiving turns.

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The dog prefers more of a supervisory role.

“It’s good! Let’s get out.” – No hyperbole here. Just an honest assessment that if there’s skiing at all, it’s probably a good way to spend some time. If it was all just breakable crust, this person would tell you about it. So go find your skins, change the batteries in your beeper, and try to get all your crap at least in one place. The next time this person calls, you’ll want to be ready to go.

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How was the skiing? Just check Instagram! That’s sure to be reliable.

“Pretty fair.” – You blew it. The casual understatement. The humble nonchalance. This person had a damn good day, and you probably should have gone when they invited you. They know it’s a long season and it’ll be filled with good days to come, so they’re not going to rub it in. But let there be no doubt, this person found the goods, and probably only hit a couple of rocks.

At the end of the day, though, the only way you can be sure is to go out and see for yourself. Who knows? It might even be ok.

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