In every ski bum’s life there comes a point in which you pack up what you have in the wheels you have and head west. Maybe you are joining friends, maybe leading the charge, maybe some are coming along to blaze the trail for the rest… Either way, it feels less like a conscious decision and more like the inevitable next step in life. “I just knew I had to be in the mountains”, is what I hear a lot. Your family may support it because they too see this unavoidable phase in your life. Chances are you owe it to your folks who put you in ski school at an early age, paid for lessons, gear and lift tickets, gas and food, and lodging to get the days in. Or, maybe because they made the same decision long before and they too see that inevitable move to the mountains and support the path. Either way, you are now on your own, doing minimum wage work, and dedicating all of your free time to the pursuit of powder.

There are also the lucky ones that grew up and never left the ski town, living their entire lives under the mountains they were born beneath, but the majority of “locals” traveled to their destination. Often times, coming from the east coast or a neighboring Mountain Time state to stay for a few months, years or seasons until they move on to follow a friend, a job, or a girl/guy to the next resort town down the I-15 or I-70. You hold a job (or two) for the winter season and a different gig for the summer season supporting the local tourist economy. This job gets you your season pass (screw health insurance, even babysitting jobs have the “free pass” benefit in this town!), but it requires all hands on deck for the Holidays. No returning home, no Turkey with the family, no presents under the familiar tree or ski socks in the embroidered stocking. You’re on duty. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have family and it doesn’t mean you don’t have holidays.

When I decided for the first time to chase powder instead of flying east to Buffalo, NY for the annual 4am Blackout Wednesday debauchery and way too hungover Thanksgiving feast, I found myself heading to Jackson, WY where the storms were lining up and the base was being set. I reached out through my powder Rolodex to find a couch or two for the week and got set up with the Mad Trees crew out of UVM. With 18″ coming down on the pass in the 13th hour of the drive from Mammoth (and another 4-8″ forecasted each night after), the stage was set.

5am wake up calls for 6am bootpacks and skins off the pass were standard so everyone could get to work by 9am. Pressure to make it back to open the demo shop pushed the tempo up and put the pressure on. I spent the days at Grand Targhee or on the Teton Pass with new groups to skin with and hitchhike with. At 3pm we would meet back up for another bootpack/skin off the pass to close out each day. Three intense days to kick off a big week leading up to Jackson Hole opener and a big storm on the horizon. 20″+ expected in the upper elevations Tuesday into Wednesday so we started planning an overnight hut trip (yes – in November) in Grand Teton National Park. The big storm came in warm and wet though, and shifted the plans as avalanche danger went off the charts. The intensity didn’t falter though as the crew built road gaps on the outskirts of town, ripping backflips under the lights of snowmobiles and stemming the appetite for powder with good times, friends, beers and a lot of karaoke (you can find them at The Virginian every Wednesday night). Ski tweaking at its finest.

Then, after a bluebird opener at Jackson Hole, we made 100lbs+ of food (including 2 20lb turkeys) to feed the 25 East Coasters and friends made along the way that chased a dream, followed a friend, made a decision, or just took that inevitable next step to head west. In the end, to head to a place with a job next to a big ass mountain with a shit ton of powder. A place where avalanches are real, where danger is tangible, where skill, knowledge, and balls are a must.

Thanksgiving with Mad Trees reminded me that a life of a ski bum and a holiday away from family doesn’t change the holiday at all. It just changes the family you surround yourself with. Ride on boys.

Mad Trees is a community of riders from the East Coast who are spread across the country for the epic pursuit of an epic mountain life. Follow them at @madtreesusa or madtrees.org as they shred Washington, Wyoming, Utah and Vermont.

It’s so true  —- the more things change, the more they stay the same. We were stoked in 1976.  We might not have used that word; we were happy, blissful, exhilarated, living the cool life, living the free life, feeling groovy, – yep, we were stoked!

It’s October, 1976.  We pulled into Park City, Utah. The colors were screaming from the hillsides, and the town was beautiful.  We stayed forever…..  (well, with a few diversions in between forever).  We were chasing pow, but more importantly, we were searching for a certain lifestyle.

It was easy to fall in love with the mountains and the friendly inviting ski town.  Winter came early and fast that year, and soon enough we were gliding through the white stuff every day.  We tended bar at night to support the lifestyle. Sleeping a couple hours after late nights serving up the booze to the rest of the ski bums in town, we would all see each other again competing for first chair every morning.  Especially on those deep powder mornings, when it was so quiet, so peaceful,  so white, and so exciting to know we would soon be in flight through baby soft feathers we call snow,  and grant us that oh-so-needed feeling of joy.

Rewind back to 1974-75; we both left behind promising careers in the big cities of New York and Los Angeles. We met over red wine, fell in love, and made a choice. Let’s find a life style where we can live out our dreams. And it was in mountains where that came through for us.  35+ awesome years of skiing down the mountains, biking up the mountains, hiking through the mountains, playing golf in view of the mountains, and sailing on the mountain lakes. At night, we’d all recount our days of adventure while playing poker (that’s entirely another story).

After a season in Park City, it was time to conquer mountains in Steamboat Springs, Aspen, Vail, Copper Mountain, Alpine Meadows, Squaw Valley, Heavenly, and Sun Valley.  So over a few years, we moved to various ski towns, visited others in between, and always found jobs, mostly bartending, to support our ski bumming lifestyle.  Man, it was fun! Did I mention we also spent a year on the beach in Cali playing lots of volleyball? When we weren’t in the mountains, we were on the ocean. But then, we always found our calling back to the mountains….

The rest of the story was made up of years of skiing deep powder – that was always the constant.  Always watching the storm tracks coming our way.  Sometimes we’d pack a bag in 5 minutes, throw the baby in a car seat, and book it to Targhee to catch a three foot dump, and giggle our way through waist deep dust for two days.  Those were the days we wore our onesies, but honestly guys, there hasn’t been anything warmer since.  And we shredded on our long, skinny skis and rear entry boots.  Here’s where I can talk about my “perm”, but let’s not go there. After all, it was the 80’s.

Long, long story short: we eventually got married, had two beautiful daughters, raised them on skis, bikes, tennis courts,  golf courses, hiking trails, and (ssshhhhhh), poker tables.    So yes, things change.  And yes – things stay the same, except we are now us + 2. And we are still getting out there, everyday, living the lifestyle we always dreamed of, outside of the cities, away from the 9-5, in the mountains where we call home.

And along with all the wonderful winters, there was always the anticipation of summer as well. We watched the evolution of mountain biking, and spent many years enjoying the amazing trail system that was built in Park City. We came to love good dirt, the way we love good snow. We love the variety of sports the summer offers, and participate in all of them. We’d find ourselves in mountain lakes sailing the Jordanelle, Rockport, Deer Creek & Lake Tahoe. We sailed with the dog on board, too. We continued having poker games.    It’s all part of the lifestyle.  Yes, we work.  We have “real” jobs since we “out-grew” our bartending days.  That’s a nice way of saying we got older.  With the passing years, we had all the joy of being with our daughters, watching them grow and develop into elegant, smart, & caring human beings. We are honored that they too have embraced the lifestyle of mountain living, and attached even more to it; surfing, paddle boarding, para-gliding & traveling the globe. Most importantly to us, is that they still like hanging out with us!

And we are still here.  Still skiing, still riding the dirt, still hitting tennis & golf balls, still hiking. Our girls are para-gliding and rock climbing! So, I say it again: things change, but the life style remains the same. For everyone, then… and now.

We all still listen and watch those beautiful flakes falling from the sky throughout the night, stand on line early in the morning to catch freshies on those bottomless clouds we call runs.  We ride our bikes on single track passageways that give us miles of smiles. So whatever it is that turns on your “stoke”, skiing, boarding, biking, climbing, or just breathing the air: live it, love it, and share it.

After all these years, the most important lesson we’ve learned – there are many friends on a powder day!

 *As Professor Petrovsky says: “We can’t run from who we are.  Our destiny chooses us”.