Skiing: A Review

There are many reviews of skis and boots and coats. And questions are asked like, how skinny should my rope be? And, are my sunglasses large enough? But, before you begin asking, does my ice ax dangle just right? A review of the entire endeavor is in order.

Skiing is a thing you can choose to do. It requires stuff. But less than you would think. If you have skis, boots and poles, you can do it. Poles aren’t even absolutely mandatory. I forgot them at home on one occasion and had a fine, if more challenging, ski tour. I will say that I haven’t forgotten them since. Fancy clothes are not mandatory. New skis, unnecessary. The online sphere is filled with reviews. Nits are picked over micro differences in how this ski can slarve but not slash, carve but not climb. And I, having failed to slash on one ski and successfully slarved on another, I think, gladly contribute with the utmost sincerity to this blither-blather. It’s true, we have a little money and we want to know what to buy and it makes sense to seek advice. It is also true that most of this stuff is pretty damn excellent and it can slash if you can slash it, it can climb if you can climb it. Skiing and all it has to offer depends not on these things.

Breathing hard, legs burning, sweat dripping, head pounding, partners way ahead of you… this is not suffering. You are not suffering. You are ski touring, or ski mountaineering or at worst skimo’ing. And in all cases it is a pleasure and a choice. If you are working hard, it hurts. Thank all the gods you are so privileged as to hurt this good. The person rolling around in a battered K-Mart tent in the freezing pre-dawn park you drove past on the way to your ski tour could likely claim a level of suffering, but you and I cannot. At least not while we’re skiing. And that’s one of its gifts.

The other day I was having a bad day skiing. The snow was hard and my arthritic knee hurt to a degree that made skiing a bit too painful to enjoy. And then I realized. I was skiing. Out of all the hands the deck could deal, I still got one that was skiing.

Though being filled with gratitude is a smart way to approach life, this is not a finger-wagging on how lucky we should feel. We have all suffered. And your suffering is real. Even if its causes are not. If anything, ski touring is a great temporary escape from suffering, and the pain of pushing yourself fast and hard is an even more thorough escape. Sweat in the eyes and iron in the throat feeds the soul. The discomfort of effort offers a respite from the insane ways we seek comfort. The gift of effort and a focus on the task of skiing can result in the easing up of the attention we put on ourselves. That is at least a possible benefit. But it isn’t a given.

Skiing is really fun. I can attest. But it can also be really unfun. It can own you. Skiing can be a competition that you can never win, even when you are winning. The causes of our suffering are not the steepness of the up-track or whatever dangerous and uncomfortable situation we put ourselves in. It is the shadow of our motives, the state of our own psyche that drives us to that place, or to the pace we’re ascending, the extremes we endure, the danger and fear we choke down, the sacrifices made to accomplish a goal of our own design. The illusion is that if we keep at it hard enough we will catch some ghost just up ahead who will grant us, finally and forever, the peace, satisfaction and love we have earned once and for all.