The Opposite of Chill
After a funky winter of weather and crossed signals, this past week converged in the perfect storm of snow and free time where I got to enjoy five days of skiing in a row at my home mountain, Stevens Pass. And the skiing was GOOD. The skiing has never been bad this season, exactly—it’s just never been that great, at least not when I’ve been there. The running joke this season has been that a run is considered good if “it wasn’t terrible,” or if “there was one good turn in there!” It’s been a real glass-half-full winter. There have been some powder days (so I’ve heard), but I’ve either been gone, working, sick, or otherwise obligated. (Don’t feel too sorry for me, though—I traveled to some amazing places.)
All winter we’ve been patiently waiting for these conditions. Plus, there’s rain in the forecast. The clock is ticking on winter. So, this week, my friend Suzanne and I took advantage. We hiked. We set bootpacks. We led the charge. When the inevitable dude would appear behind us on the bootpack and ask, “Are you setting the bootpack?” We would roll our eyes, like, duh! And politely say yes. “I can give it a try,” offered one man, “I have a snowboard, which can be like a plank.” Suzanne and I stepped aside, exchanging looks. “Go for it,” I said. The man started up, swimming in the neck deep snow. “Wow,” he said, clearly surprised at how hard the uphill travel was, as if we had just been going slow because of our delicate femininity, or our lack of snowboard plankage. “This is, like, really hard hiking,” he huffed. We let him go for a bit and then smugly resumed the lead.
Another day, we were on a bootpack and there was a bit of a backup in front—a young person whose first time it was hiking the ridge. Behind us, guys were grumbling about the slow pace. When we reached the top, several people were all putting their gear back on at a flat spot, and the grumblers—friends of mine—passed us and pushed off down the run with a quick, “Have a good run!” As if they would be so fast that we wouldn’t see them again. This did not fly with my competitive nature. I looked at my ski partners and we all nodded, like, it’s on. We passed the two, surprising them with our aggressive tactics, and then ended up choosing a different run in the end.
In that case, everyone won—and it was a little taste of my early ski bum days in Tahoe, powder days on KT where one genuinely had to race to get the choice line. These days I pride myself on mostly sharing (I’m such a good role model for my kids!), thinking of myself as benevolent and chill for letting folks merge in front of me in traffic or go ahead at the grocery store when they only have a few items. Even if I’m in a hurry. Because I want to see myself as nice, as a “chill” person. But the reality is that sometimes I’m just not, and I’m okay with that.
There’s something about a powder day frenzy that re-awakens my competitive nature and reminds me that it’s good to embrace the inner fierceness sometimes. I’m still nice. Just don’t get in my way! And don’t expect me to just let you go first without a proper race. A little friendly competition is healthy. After all, who doesn’t need a good reminder now and again of the fire that burns inside each of us to go after what we want.
This week:
Volcanic activity in Washington!
Barefoot Pilot—A short film about our friend Rory, a truly incredible athlete and person.
Thanks for reading along!
Ingrid
