Singles Ski

  Whistler, British Columbia, Canada
Saturday, February 26, 2011

Saturday 26th February 2011

A couple of chapters back, I may have ranted slightly about my dislike for snowboard language and by extension, snowboard culture (try reading a snowboard magazine and you’ll quickly get what I mean). I should point out that I am a snowboarder, which along with giving me plenty of inside knowledge on the subject, also puts me in the same category as the people I’m bad mouthing.

Years ago, when I was walking home from work back in the UK, I cut through the park to pick up my bike from outside the swimming pool. On the bridge entrance to the park there was a bunch of skateboarders, who decided that my presence was somehow one of the worlds biggest injustices and started calling me a ‘gopher’ in a way that was obvious but not direct. Kind of like at school when you say rude words about the French teacher Mrs. Morgan’s appalling B.O. while looking the other way in the hope that she will think you’re not talking about her (it didn’t work, I still got a Red Slip, my school’s idea of punishment). Given that the group of skateboarders numbered about 15, I found their behaviour a bit wimpish and lacking somewhat in the balls department. I’ve always had a problem with people that need a whole back-up crew before they can really act out or say what they think – I’ve never had the priviledge of that and I don’t need it now. Many times I’ve noticed condescending smirks and frowns from groups of snowboarders – naturally I must be scum as I can’t do a 360 off a jump and I don’t need my boyfriends to accompany me boarding.

I think I’ve now made it pretty clear that I’m a little at odds with the community that I’m part of. I’m sure there a lot of skiers that, should they read this, would sit nodding in agreement and reciting all the times when some punk boarder almost knocked over their kid on a ski slope. Now might be a good time to admit that I consider skiers to be just as, if not a bigger pain in the arse than boarders – just in case any of you two-plank proponents thought you were going to get off lightly….

First off, what is up with the sense of direction or more to the point total lack of any? A headless chicken, injected with a mix of crack and steroids would have a better idea of which way it plans to go next than any of you lot. Do you reckon you might go left? Or are you possibly considering going all the way over to the right? Or both, in unequal amounts and at totally random timing, while your entire 17-piece family that you seem to need two feet from your side makes an equally perplexing balls-up of the whole “which direction change should I throw in next?” dilemna.

I place much importance in remembering where you came from, with regards to progressing in a certain field. For example, I have never sworn at or got arsey with a learner driver. That was me once and my second driving test was wrecked by some monkey in a builders truck. Likewise, when I see someone who is clearly just starting out their skiing/boarding days, I give them some space. I’ll admit it can be frustrating to suddenly slam on the brakes on what was a good fast run, but it’s just common decency. I remember how much it used to piss me off back in December when I was struggling for balance and someone would blast past me three millimetres from my elbow.

What I won’t cut any slack for are skiers that decide to do sharp wide U-turns in the middle of the slope, with no warning or indication whatsoever, sending everybody behind either into a tree or onto the floor in a cloud of snow-dust and cursing. The ‘Alpine Code’ as Whistler Blackcomb calls it dictates that it is the responsibility of the person behind to watch the person in front. This is logical – it’s essential too, because if everyone relied on the skier in front to have any awareness of their presence the resort would make no money due to everyone being in hospital.

What the code doesn’t say is that all common logic and sense of other peoples existence can be left at home. Contrary to what some skiers seem to think, stopping across a fast and busy piece of the slope in order to stare gormlessly up the hill to observe the other members of their 17-strong clan making nuisances of themselves isn’t cool. Or necessary.

The attitude is another thing. When I was here back in 2008 I was on a green run (the easy ones, for beginners) when a skier pulled up alongside me and said, “You know where you’re going pal?” before speeding off. I distinctly remember shouting at him to come back and repeat himself while stationary, followed by calling him a cunt. And today, I’d merged from the singles line onto the side of a group of three skiers. The three in front left no room for me, so I stayed put. The guy nearest to me, clearly discouraged at the thought of sharing a chair lift with a lowly snowboarder, muttered, “Maybe you should join them in front…..OK then, maybe not.” He seemed a little surprised when I pointed out that the chairs take four and that I clearly wasn’t interested in listening to his shit. After that he went back to planning how best to spend the rest of the day getting in everyone’s way.

My dislike for people who hunt in packs will always be a sore point. Of course I do go boarding with my pals and it’s a fantastic experience to share, but I’m just as happy in my own space and time, working on my boarding technique and trying to push myself further. I think my problem with anyone on the mountain (one plank or two) is the idea that a group of people feels the need to throw it’s weight around against someone on their own. It’s no coincidence that I’ve had virtually no attitude from or issues with people boarding or skiing alone. The idea that people need their chums from Sales and Marketing before they can act big frustrates me somewhat. If I screw up, I’m the first to admit it and say sorry to anyone I might have cut-up or almost taken out. But conversely, I’m also quite happy to say things like “fuck off and stop wasting my oxygen” to people that think those out on their own are somehow game for degrading.

Trying to get past a bad skier is like being stuck behind a caravan on a country road, desperately looking for a reasonable gap while the hideous thing in front sways randomly around in a way that has no relation to accepted physics. I’m well aware that I’m close to hypocrit territory here but in my defence I always make it clear when I’m going to change direction drastically, I’m usually aware of people behind me and roughly where they are in relation to my position and velocity. This is in my best interest. I don’t want to be taken out by someone travelling at speed any more than I want to eat asbestos. But I also don’t want to play any part in a skiers demented version of logic, stopping at inconvenient places like an odd piece in a game of mountain Tetris.

Of course, I’m exaggerating hugely here. I don’t really dislike skiers – just a small minority. The many, many decent ones out there are probably well aware of the habits of the bad ones (and their 17-wide crew of relatives) and try fairly hard to avoid any association with them. In the same way that I don’t want to be grouped together with the cocky boarders that only seem to know the words ‘knarly’ and ‘pow’, hindered by their IQ of 43. That’s 43 between them all.

Not only do I have friends both here and back in the UK that are skiers, but I’ve met some great people at the hotel who walk in every afternoon and hand me their skis, happily chatting about their day. Some have become friends and I look forward to visiting their part of the world in future. If I ever get talking to them about the skiers that haven’t yet worked out that you’re supposed to go in the same direction as the downward slope, I’m really not sure what to suggest….

…a compass, perhaps?