I learned how to ski on the east coast.
Correction: I learned how to downhill ice skate on the east coast. The loud CHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH of ski edges begging the ice for some grip are all too familiar to me.
Cue a trip to Utah. Bigger. Better. Mormon(ish).
I headed out there with an ex-coworker friend of mine who I worked with back in the days of shit-eating in trade support at a hedge fund. I like reminiscing about those soul-crushing times because it makes me happy that I’ll never again have to deal with the abhorrent personalities that the industry tends to create. You know the type: People with chips on their shoulders that can’t bear the thought of people who haven’t ascribed to the misery of the ugly house in the suburbs, the crazy wife and kid, the outer-borough commute, the fantasy football league talk by people who don’t play sports, etc. There are exceptions to that type, but the experience of working in that environment was rendered rotten by the former.
I love vacations that let you forget about your responsibilities for a few days. You don’t think about rent, paychecks, Metrocards, health insurance, and issues at work. Going to Park City, Utah is the perfect antithesis to the city. Tons of space, tons of snow, room to breathe.
The day-to-day in the city overruns your senses with static- you’re subject to a constant barrage of input. It makes you numb after a while. The occasional tryst with nature is exactly what the run-down New Yorker needs to get their game face back.
We skied the Canyons resort for 3 solid days. For some east-coast perspective: it’s 4 times the size of Killington. We skiied about 5 solid hours a day and didnt get bored after 3 days. The views are epic, and there’s a ton of mountain to explore. The runs are way longer than out east, and they’re steeper and wider as well. As a side note- make sure you hit the gym a few times before skiing, your legs will thank you.
Après ski is a blast: The douchey nomenclature for happy hour. You can almost see the Tucker Max-like character nonchalantly mentioning it on the slopes. Might as well play the part.
I now see why being a ski bum is so appealing. Wake up, eat, ski, eat, ski, drink, eat, sleep, repeat.
PS: the award for Best Utah beer name goes out to Polygamy Porter. In addition to being hilarious, its delicious (assuming you like chocolaty porters)