Cover photo courtesy of Shallan Knowles
Full disclosure, my friends. I am a proud member of Gen X. For the younger folks out there, you might know us as the “latch-key kids” or the “forgotten” generation. We grew up on a healthy diet of sugar cereals and sarcasm, a complete lack of parental supervision, and we didn’t have iPhones to take with us to the bathroom. We had to walk to school no matter the weather and were forced to spend time outside on the weekends, armed with only a bike, a baseball bat and our imagination. The 1970s and 1980s were much simpler times, and man, do I miss those days. But it was during the winter months when we were taught the most valuable lessons in toughness. Now, before you decide to tangle with a Gen Xer on the hill this season, keep the following in mind.
Getting to the Hill
I can’t even count the number of times I have seen the younger generations rolling to the mountain in all-wheel-drive SUVs that are loaded with so many amenities that I question whether they are really vehicles or just plush living rooms on wheels. And if you park close enough to them, you can smell the Starbucks soy latte and gluten-free breakfast sandwich made with free-range eggs that they enjoyed on their leisurely drive. Back in our day, we were jammed into some gas-guzzling, rear-wheel-drive land yacht with no seat belts that struggled to make it uphill in August, let alone in a blizzard in February. If you were lucky, you might have had a Pop-Tart composed of 90% sugar to snack on, though most of it crumbled apart the second you opened the package and vanished into the ice-cold vinyl seats that most cars were equipped with back then. Oh well, those were useless calories anyway …
Old-School Ski Gear
There is no doubt that today’s equipment technology equates to a more comfortable day on the mountain, especially when it comes to clothing. And nothing gets my juices going like a full-blown storm day, with single-digit temps and snow blowing sideways. But I always chuckle and give the side-eye when my younger chairlift partner inquires through chattering teeth if I am also cold. Bruh, four decades ago we were forced to go hard from opening to last chair with two pairs of cotton socks, stretch pants that had the texture of sandpaper and an oversized sweatshirt adorned with the logo of our favorite football team. And you always had to bring an extra pair of gloves because the first pair would be soaked after four runs, rendering your fingers useless. My dad said this built character.
Chairlift Air Fresheners
As a weekend warrior, I have grown accustomed to dealing with the sheer volume of people that head to the mountain after the workweek comes to a close. What amazes me, though, are some of the habits they bring with them. On more than a few occasions, I have caught aromatic whiffs of cotton candy or rainbow sherbet originating from a billowing cloud of vape smoke from the chair in front of me. And to be honest, they smell delicious. Back in the 1980s, we had to endure the acrid smell of Marlboro Reds, Tiparillo cigars, or some nasty, sub-par Devil’s Lettuce (if you know, you know). God forbid if your chairlift partner was the one firing these up, as you would be right in the line of fire. As a side note, rainbow sherbet vape flavor is known as Unicorn Vomit … Thanks ChatGPT.
Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach and ski industry professional. He still snacks on Pop-Tarts on the way to the hill and occasionally rocks a Seattle Seahawks sweatshirt.
