The little things

The cold february mornings where good snow was groomed well, firmed over night, but starts to bake in the sun around 10 am. When you can get that perfect edge into that little bit of peel.

Quick slashes or surfy turns in powder or slush.

The smell of the fir trees in the woods.

When you have a great run and you come out at the bottom with the biggest grin. The joy so extreme your head might explode or float away. Every bit of bullshit in your life fades away. Even if for a fleeting moment. Those are what we live for.

When you hit a huge jump and just float endlessly toward space, then peak and drop out of the sky in to a massive steep landing. No compression and just smooth as you rid away. Even better with a 2 or 3 pack. Bomb in, float, land, bomb in, float, land, fuck I love that feeling.

Watching somebody learn a new trick. Seeing how stoked they get. Whether there first box or backflip it never gets old.

Seeing the people having fun on a feature you put a fuck ton of time into.

When you and a bunch of friends are hiking a feature and everyone is landing shit and having the time of their lives.

Going huge on a jump and stomping the shit out of it.

Building some features with friends and bullshitting the whole time, then when you hit it its exactly how you envisioned it.

The first few days of the season where you're having a blast and you know its just the beginning.

Hyping someone up to do something their terrified of and then when they try it they land it.

When you're having such a good time when you think back to it it feels like a dream.

Tbh, hiking a preseason setup is more fun than a full park in terms of fun.

coming into a steep section hot and layin out a long smear getting a huge faceshot the whole time.

Click, Click.

I love slashing pillows and hyping up people on the lift when sending down mainers.

The sound the chairlift makes as it goes over the wheels....

theabortionatorThe cold february mornings where good snow was groomed well, firmed over night, but starts to bake in the sun around 10 am. When you can get that perfect edge into that little bit of peel.

Quick slashes or surfy turns in powder or slush.

The smell of the fir trees in the woods.

When you have a great run and you come out at the bottom with the biggest grin. The joy so extreme your head might explode or float away. Every bit of bullshit in your life fades away. Even if for a fleeting moment. Those are what we live for.

When you hit a huge jump and just float endlessly toward space, then peak and drop out of the sky in to a massive steep landing. No compression and just smooth as you rid away. Even better with a 2 or 3 pack. Bomb in, float, land, bomb in, float, land, fuck I love that feeling.

Watching somebody learn a new trick. Seeing how stoked they get. Whether there first box or backflip it never gets old.

Seeing the people having fun on a feature you put a fuck ton of time into.

-abortionators always enlightening and in depth contributions to this sight

2 stroke smell

- sharing deep turns with your buds, getting down to the bottom and looking at each other psyched outta your mind like "holy shit dude", then proceed to be speechless on the chair back up as you catch your breath and try to mentally process all that sweet sweet epicness your body just endured. rinse and repeat till your mentally and physically exhausted to the point that youre barely good enough to drive back down the canyon lol.


- slash turns under the lift line, who the fuck doesn't like to watch others get absolutely dickered? Long smeary turns make me hard.


- days off in the winter, having a stretch of a few days to go do nothing but ski. Having a kick-ass day of skiing deep pow, getting back to your car grinning like crazy because you have a few more days of action like this to partake in.

Finding that golden stash of pow that no ones hit yet

greasing the down flat down flat down flat down flat down

spread eagle trains

hand dragging everything

drinkin a nice ol brewski with yer palskies

Getting hyped with your friends on the drive up

and when you have enough money to buy a nice lunch so you dont have to eat ramen for the 40th day in a row

My hill has one of the oldest ski chalets in the coutry (built in 1937). The whole thing is made out of stone. The main floor is always busy.. it has a bar and kitchen and all of that stuff. But the best spot is in the basement.

There's a large fireplace with a few tables near it. Its pretty dark, kind of like a dungeon. During weekdays while night-skiing, I love to go down there and sit by the fire with hot chocolate and read a book or whatever. It's difficult to put into words how comforting it is. One of those things I'm really going to miss when I move away.