By Marek Wakulczyk, Eastern Townships Zone member (marekwakulczyk@gmail.com)
It was absolutely gorgeous up on top of Mount Orford, Quebec as the sun rose. The kind of gorgeous that makes you take a deep cleansing breath. That one big breath when you notice how perfectly parallel the groomer’s lines in the snow extend out of sight, and the sun’s rays are already hot against any bit of dark clothing. The deafening silence in that breath probably drowned out the little kids screaming to go-go-go, and the usual crowd’s whispers of “quick while the patroller is not looking.” Probably the same breath when it sinks in how fortunate you are to be here, now, while you have two more scared friends who will not ski again due to that jerk called cancer.
Those of us with grey hair mostly stand there soaking it all in. Of course, I smile knowing my buddy would have added “…and nobody is shooting at us!” Spring is on the way. Life is good. Reduced electricity bills wander in as a thought, interrupted by “why do parents take leashed kids on a double black?” That will all have to wait. The sun’s caress just feels too good.
Elders stand beside me sharing a few snow stories – each ending with a CSP toboggan ride. They are convinced they will be limping tomorrow but it’s all worth it today, YOLO, even the teasing of their girlfriends. The themes seem to revolve around letting go and picking your battles on/off the mountain. My brain drifts to avoiding city traffic, ignoring the ever-ambiguous “10-4” response; and tolerating backward radio calls contrary to all formal radio training. Let it go. Deep breath.
I do think these elders have it right. It was not the best snowfall season, but the snow-crews did miracles for locals and tourists. Anyone who dug deep and found the motivation to show up here at 2,800 ft. this season was rewarded with good conditions, no crowds, and positive vibes from the skiers’ tribe. Our tribe.
Let’s face it, it all boils down to us humans wanting to belong and wanting to matter. As I look around the folks at the mountain top this morning, the rising sun spotlights my tribe of young-at-heart skiers – some even climbed here. In some cases, they are experts with kit pre-dating Ozzy as an actor. For others, I am sure those parents will not be able to keep up to the kids and one of them will tumble deep off trail.
I think I will follow the young family. ’been a while since I dug out a giggling child while thinking “how did they miss all the trees in here?”.
Thanks for being part of my skiing tribe. You matter. You make a difference as a patroller. Cheers!
This post is also available in: French