My First Day on the Hill

After a long and beautiful summer, the lifts are finally spinning for skiers. It’s always happy times in Whistler the first week the hill opens. The new crop of ski bums are in town, the lifties strut around in their new uniforms and instructors cruise the night spots waxing poetic about how great they are in their vain attempts to pick up unsuspecting new recruits to the mountain lifestyle.

For myself, this time of year is spent in anticipation of the first snows and the possibility of a few turns to kick the season off. When I was a young, uber motivated keener, November, and sometimes even late October, was spent hunting for pow anywhere I could get it; hiking up to the snow line on the hill and banging out laps in Whistler Bowl or the Blackcomb Glacier, or venturing into the backcountry for some high alpine scouting missions and scoping lines for the coming winter. These days, I’d rather spend November on a beach working on my winter insulation…but when the lifts finally do start to spin, I can’t help but get excited about skiing and everything it has to offer.

And the first day? Well it always goes down smooth. This year was no different. The morning was a chaotic frenzy to get all my gack together and actually find minor things like skis and boots and goggles. Then it was off to the hill, for the first time ever from my new abode in Squamish…which is a little further than the 3 minute jaunt I’ve gotten used to the last ten years. Even better this year was my first day on the hill wasn’t spent as a ski patroller, but as a local ski bum just going out for a ski.

No work runs, no fence building and no skiing around areas where the snow was less than stellar; my first day was just about getting my legs back and enjoying that wicked feeling of speed that comes from sliding down a mountain on skis. The sound of the wind, the feel of my gloves and goggles, laying out turns on fresh groomers and letting my skis take me just outside my comfort level as the morning wore on…it was fantastic. I even stopped for an espresso and a sweet treat and basked in the gratitude I have for being able to go for a couple of laps in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

We’re lucky, those of us that get to ski. It’s magic every time, regardless of the conditions. Because even in bullet proof moguls, or minimal snow cover on icy, man made runs, there is joy to be had. How can you ever be cranky when you’re on skis?

So get out there. Go to your local hill and spin a few laps. Say hello to the new lifty and enjoy your chairlift and t-bar rides. ‘Cause when you get off, it’s all gravy from there.

Be safe, ski hard.