The Passion Litmus Test

Devoted skiers and riders will make turns on anything resembling snow if need be, and the 2010 season in Wanaka proved it. A remarkable amount of snow fell on the peaks surrounding town before the local resorts opened for the season. Then nothing. For over a month. A long, dry month. Devotees made turns on some terrain in July that could charitably have been described as "sketchy". Early August brought some respite, but a constant freeze and thaw cycle made off-piste terrain a bit like the surface of the moon at times, and the cover on all of our terrain barely serviceable at others. Conditions presented real technical challenges to even the best of us, and they required what I'd describe as a particularly sporting mindset to make the most of a tough situation and enjoy it. In reality, the 2010 season was a test, a litmus test, lying in wait for all of us in order to measure just how much we love it. In the middle of September, the test commenced in earnest.

For those who were there and need a reminder and for those of you who missed it, several large storms battered the Southern Alps in rapid succession for more than two weeks in the middle of September. For the first week of the cycle, my home field Treble Cone received snow on all but a couple of days, with only rare breaks of sunshine and decent visibility. The total snow accumulation will be disputed and exaggerated for many years to come, but suffice it to say that we were positively transported, receiving more snow in that period than in the entire rest of the season combined. Snow fell straight down in buckets, dropping in large, dry flakes from the top to the bottom of our mountain in a way we're more accustomed to seeing in Utah, Alberta or Hokkaido.

One preliminary question gnawed at all of us working at Treble Cone: Where were all the people? At times, our mountain seemed like one giant secret stash, with the few lucky souls who came to ski and ride with us unwilling to spread the news, determined to keep the remarkable conditions to themselves. The real, deeper question, and the essential component of our litmus test was this: Who among us, despite the late date, despite the malaise of a sub-par season, and despite our readiness for warmer weather and a change of activity, could muster the enthusiasm appropriate for a once-in-a-decade storm cycle that blessed us with snow that was as consistently as dry, light and deep as we may ever see at Treble Cone? Had our passion been so strained, our energy so sapped by the 2010 season that we wouldn't be able to giggle, hoop and holler, show off our orthodonture, and exhaust our bodies while refueling our spirits in the way only great powder days can? Did we have enough enthusiasm left to percolate through the malaise and burst through the surface, showing in our faces and our spirits?

For those of us who work in our ski boots full-time, there are good days and bad. On the bad days, we set courses, pull sleds, fix lifts, groom trails, make snow, and ski in slow wedge turns in the pouring rain on ice, in slush, and on thin cover. On the good days, we'll make fresh tracks to ensure guest safety, free ski with hard charging athletes, and help people realize their powder dreams with better skiing. And then there are the great days, the memorable days, the days that feed our souls and renew our spirits. On those days, there is a little bit of work, there are a few people around, and there is more than enough deep, fresh snow for all of us. Those days rekindle our love of the sport all over again as we ski for ourselves and for the pure joy of it. At the end of the long 2010 season at Treble Cone, we were rewarded with several great days, epic days. Those of us still around to enjoy them, those of us who still were able to draw on a reserve of enthusiasm, passion and energy for our sport were blessed with memories that will stay with us for years to come. We passed the test, and the next time we're out all day in the rain, in the cold, and in the wind, we'll stay warmer and drier having done so. And we may even smile remembering how great it was as we look off to the horizon in anticipation.