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. 

The post Ski Bum Advice: Don’t Mess With Gen X Skiers  appeared first on Out There Venture.

I know, I know, some of you might think it’s a bit early to get all excited about the upcoming ski and snowboard season. If you are in that camp, I might suggest taking a peek at indoor pickleball leagues or joining a knitting club this winter. No offense to knitting clubs—I tried to join one last year (and the year before), but my membership application was denied . . . again. Nah, for those of us who totally dig winter, it really doesn’t take much to get the vibe going. If you are wondering how the heck my dysfunctional mind switches gears and starts focusing on the upcoming season, follow along. 

My Browser History 
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but nothing so poignantly illuminates what goes on in a skier’s mind this time of year like their browser history. My better half looked at mine and seriously wondered how she ended up with me. My recent history includes: 

“Skis I want but can’t afford.” Seems I spent a total of 200 hours reviewing over 600 websites, drooling over the latest and greatest hardpack carving skis and powder sticks. Now I happen to have these in my quiver, but I can rationalize damn near anything. Until I compare the MSRP to my bank account . . . which never ends well.  

“Best ski socks for sweaty feet.” I am quite certain that I own at least two dozen pair of high-quality ski socks, though I am also certain that I only use one or two pair, and never wash either . . . mainly because doing so is bad luck. When I queried the interwebs as to the best socks for my soggy piggies, it immediately asked how often I wash my current ones. I logged off, not wanting to face reality. 

“Goggle technology for peeps who are colorblind and have poor vision.” Yeah, I really won the genetic lottery, didn’t I? It’s not my fault that I can’t see certain colors, and don’t see well at all. It is of little wonder I ignore Ski Patrol when they yell at me to slow down, and it explains why I must beg mountain management not to pull my pass every year. The results of my web inquiry? Lasik eye surgery and special uber-expensive glasses to wear under my goggles. Not the answers I wanted to hear. 

“Easy preseason workouts for lazy middle-aged dudes.” I don’t run anymore, at least not unless I’m being chased, and lifting weights sure looks hard. ChatGPT was not kind to me when I asked for suggestions. It responded: “You ask that every year—please stop.” 
 
Making a Gear Checklist 
I like to think I have my poop in a group when it comes to having my gear ready to go for the season, and it seems every fall I make a new list. Doing so really gets my winter juices going. But here’s the thing: it doesn’t change year after year. As a matter of fact, it’s been the same since the latter part of the 20^th century. This year, think I might farm out the task of putting the list together to AI—that will show ‘em. 

 
Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski industry professional. It might be hard to believe, but he really does get excited when winter rolls around. 

The post Ski Bum Advice: How I Know Winter is Coming  appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Bri Loveall

What started out as a fantastic season for me kinda went south around the holidays.  As I may have mentioned in previous articles, Sunday is the day my better half and I spend time together on the mountain, and we always look forward to the weekend no matter the conditions. Now I would be lying if I said every Sunday was magical, but we try and have as good of a time as possible.  Well, at least she does.  

Unfortunately, my partner in crime managed to tweak her knee during a non-skiing activity, thus leaving me to my own devices on our sacred day. Being the selfish dirtbag skier I am, I ventured out alone, forced to mingle with my fellow skiers and riders. Despite the fact that I detest most of humanity, I actually enjoyed chatting with complete strangers that were just trying to enjoy themselves on the hill. But man, some of the things I heard this season nearly made me wet my knickers and head straight for the bar.

 If you made it up to any of our local resorts during the early portion of the season, you know that visibility was, well . . . challenging. With the sheer amount of moisture we received, foggy conditions were the norm, and some days it made skiing downright difficult. On one of those especially miserable days where you had to stop frequently and violently scrape the frozen fog from your goggles, I actually had a guy tell me that “It’s really not that bad.” Oh yeah?  As someone who considers themselves a competent skier, it should not take me nearly half an hour to go from summit to base. And when I finally did get to what appeared to be the bottom lift, I should not have to question how the hell I made it down at all. Just sayin’. 

On a day during the usual January dry spell, I rode the lift with a really nice couple that were visiting from out of town. Both were rocking super wide powder skis, despite that the fact it had not snowed in weeks and conditions were hard and fast and ripping groomers was the only game in town. Glancing at the race carvers I had strapped to my feet, one of them sneered “Why are your skis so skinny?” After providing a short but riveting lecture on the physics of skiing and how narrower, race-constructed skis perform better on hard snow, I could literally hear their eyes glaze over, and one of them had the audacity to basically tell me I didn’t know what I was talking about. I later ran into them midway through a run, and they both confessed that maybe I was on to something.  

Halfway through an absolutely gorgeous bluebird day, I jumped on the chair with a dad and his son who looked to be about seven or eight years old, who I will call Jimmy.  After exchanging the usual pleasantries, I asked Dad how the day was treating him. He explained that he was working with his son to improve his skiing, but Jimmy was having a hard time getting out of a snowplow and into parallel skiing. After telling Dad that I had spent a good chunk of my adult skiing career coaching kids, I gave him some fun drills to try out to help facilitate Jimmy’s transition. Dad just looked at me and muttered “The kid just won’t listen.” I laughed and asked Jimmy if that was true.  Without missing a beat, little Jimmy smiled and said, “Nah, my coach just sucks.” The last five minutes of that chairlift ride went by in blissful silence. 
 
Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski industry professional. He is no longer allowed to go skiing by himself. 

The post Funny Things I Heard This Season appeared first on Out There Venture.

Cover photo courtesy of Mt. Spokane
 
As a domesticated middle-aged dude, I have way more responsibilities than I would care to, so I only get to go skiing on Sundays. And since that is my one and only day on the hill, I don’t really put much effort into checking the conditions prior to heading to the mountain. It could be 5 below zero with snow blowing sideways and every chair on wind hold, and I wouldn’t even bat an eye. No, my friends, the season is short and I’m going up no matter what. Now, for those of you who have to intently scrutinize the snow report like its an intelligence estimate from the CIA in order to make a decision whether to head to the mountain, I thought I would help by pointing out some of the subtleties that might escape the layperson.  

 
“Variable Conditions” 
Now this could damn well mean anything, but usually it equates to wind-scoured ice patches on the upper mountain, ankle-breaking crud that has the consistency of wet concrete at mid mountain, and paper-thin coverage mixed with gravel and chunks of tree branches on the lower mountain. Make sure your insurance is up to date prior to heading up…. 
 
“Precipitating” 
If it was snowing, they would tell ya. But this means it is definitely not snowing. Yep, it’s the dreaded “R” word, but don’t sweat it. If you have the right gear, skiing in the rain can be a hoot. Well, until every stitch of clothing you own is soaked to the skin and you have to wring your gloves out when you head in for lunch. If you don’t care how you look, I might suggest cutting a hole at the top of a garbage bag and rocking it like a rain poncho. As a side note, I would suggest the large Hefty Extra Strong bags for lawn debris—they fit really well …. 

“Limited Visibility” 
Ever heard the phrase “skiing by braille”? This is it. Skiing is hard enough even with optimum conditions, but trying to slide down the mountain when you can’t see five feet in front of you is just a different kind of awful. And nothing will make you want to head straight for the car like goggles encrusted with frozen fog. Pro tip: Use the thumb you wipe your nose with to clear your goggles—the viscosity of snot helps facilitate the removal of ice crystals from your lenses.  
 
“Firm and Fast” 
If it hasn’t snowed for weeks, this is typically what is left to ski on. Any soft layer that existed is usually brushed down to the ice layer by mid-morning, leaving you to negotiate an uneven, frozen river pock-marked with death cookies and littered with debris from fallen skiers who couldn’t set an edge if their lives depended on it. If you haven’t had your skis tuned for a few years, this is not the day for you. But, if you did, then godspeed. 
 
“Thin Crust Over Fresh Powder” 
Now don’t let the “fresh powder” part of this fool ya. Sure, there might be some quality snow lurking under that so-called thin crust, but getting to it is gonna cost ya if you are snagging first tracks. First off, breaking through the crust is going to take more effort than it is worth. And even once you do break through it, I guarantee you will have non-existent control over your sticks. Oh, and that crust you worked so hard to muscle through? Yeah, it has a sharpness akin to an obsidian blade used by surgeons. But I guess you will figure that out when you roll into the bar with the bottoms of your $400 North Face pants shredded to ribbons while those around you quietly snicker. But, hey, at least you scored some fresh powder, right? 

 
Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski industry professional. He gets excited when conditions are firm and fast.  

The post Ski Bum Advice: How to read a snow report appeared first on Out There Venture.

By Brad Northrup 

Cover photo courtesy Shallan Knowles
 
Throughout the course of human history, civilizations from around the globe have worshipped the change of seasons, and, as such, created gods and goddesses to direct their prayer towards. For those of us who look forward to the colder months, winter equates to skiing, snowboarding, snowshoeing, and other snow-related outdoor activities. However, to those who existed in antiquity, winter was a time that represented death and rebirth, and the snow that came with it a symbol of purity and innocence. While a few of the gods and goddesses associated with winter are well known in skiing lore, many are far more obscure. 

Ullr is perhaps the most well-known winter deity. According to Norse mythology, Ullr was the son of Sif and the stepson of Thor, and was regarded as the god of winter, archery, and skiing. Granted, skiing a thousand years ago was a survival skill rather than a leisure activity. Ullr also ruled over Asgard during the winter months, and relinquished his position to Odin during the summer, according to a 12^th century work that detailed the history of the Danes. Historians also theorize that Ullr was likely based on an earlier Germanic pagan god, as his name was inscribed on an excavated bronze scabbard dating from the early 3rd century. In the modern period, Ullr is regarded as the patron saint of skiing, and many resorts have statues of him standing guard over their guests and throw celebrations in his honor. Most notably, Breckenridge Colorado has hosted an Ullr festival every January since 1963 as a way to bring luck and fresh snow to the resort.  

Westerners probably don’t envision epic power days when they think of Japan, but the island nation has over 500 resorts and experiences storms that are the envy of many North American mountains. More importantly, Japan’s culture reveres nature, so it is not surprising that they have their own snow deity. Yuki-Onna, or the “snow princess,” is regarded as a very important, albeit creepy, mythical creature who is often depicted as a beautiful, paled-skin woman with white hair and piercing blue/violet eyes who is said to have the ability to freeze anything with her icy stare. Stories from as early as the 14^th century also depict her as an evil spirit who kills unsuspecting victims with her icy breath. 

With their cultures deeply rooted in the natural world, the various North American indigenous cultures also maintained several gods of winter. Existing in almost year-round winter conditions, the Inuit people of the Arctic deeply revered the snow god Negafook. As the embodiment of the North Wind, Negafook is often depicted as a tall, gaunt man with white hair, icy skin, and eyes that resemble frozen lakes. According to oral tradition, Negafook holds the power to create blizzards, change the air temperature, and even freeze the entire landscape with his frosty breath. To this day, the Inuit continue to worship Negafook, with his likeness appearing on carved masks used in ceremonial dances. Farther south, the Iroquois tribe deeply feared the snow god Gohone, who was represented as an old man who held the power to bring brutally cold weather and monstrous snowstorms. The Iroquois also believed that Gohone was the creator of the Aurora Borealis, or northern lights. 

Despite being surrounded by a tropical paradise, the early inhabitants of the island of Hawaii had their own snow goddess. With an elevation of 13,803 feet above sea level, the summit of Mauna Kea is regarded as one of the most sacred locations in Hawaii, and the goddess Poli’ahu is one of the most important deities associated with the towering volcanic peak. The daughter of two other Hawaiian deities, Poli’ahu’s name translates to “White Cloak,” and she is often portrayed as a young woman donning a white cape. Per Hawaiian tradition, it is Poli’ahu who creates the white mantle of snow that blankets the upper sections of the mountain during winter.  

As one of the oldest civilizations on the planet, it is of little wonder that China has a deity associated with snow. The legend of the snow goddess Tengliu first appeared in the 7^th century during the Tang dynasty and was the focal point of many songs and poems for another thousand years as a symbol of the purity and beauty of snow. Chinese mythology also alludes to the notion that Tengliu brought the beauty of a snowy landscape every winter as gift to humanity.  

Any mention of gods or goddesses would not be complete without delving into the Greeks. As the birthplace of Western Civilization, ancient Greece seemingly had deities for everything, and winter/snow was no exception. As the god of the cold north wind and winter, Boreas was frequently depicted as a strong older man with a billowing cloak and an extremely violent temper. The son of Eos and Astraeus, Boreas was elevated to cult-like status in the 5^th century B.C.E after he summoned a powerful north wind and destroyed a Persian fleet commanded by Xerxes that was threatening an invasion Greece, according to the writings of Herodotus.  

From the frozen tundra of the Arctic to the sandy beaches of the Pacific, the cultures of nearly every region in the world created and worshipped a winter deity. Representing the true power of winter and the snow that comes with it, some of the winter gods and goddesses were depicted as malevolent beings not to be trifled with, whereas others were viewed as friendly overseers of humanity, bringing the gift of snow to those who worshipped them. 
 
Brad Northrup holds an MA and a BA in History and has an affinity for unique stories from the past. His work has appeared in Out There Venture since 2013. 

The post The Gods of Skiing  appeared first on Out There Venture.

 I was reflecting on last season the other day, and the one word that came to mind was meh. As in mediocre. It was so meh that my powder boards only made it on the hill once, and that barely knocked the dust off the top sheets. But hey, that was what was predicted by most forecasters. This year, however, things look to be much more favorable, at least according to most of the winter weather prognosticators. And they better be right, cuz if not, I’m going to start my days on the hill by slamming two shots of Fireball and mainlining a twenty-ounce Pumpkin Spice Latte. No, my friends, the amount of quality pow-pow we receive this year better be akin to the copious volume of baby oil found at a P-Diddy party. Just sayin…. 

I’m a big fan of science and tend to have a ton of confidence in folks that have a PhD after their last names. These guys are the real geniuses—and not the “stable” kind. My brilliant homies over at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration have really given me a reason to flash a toothy grin as I look forward to the upcoming season. Using detailed scientific data and backed by months of weather pattern analysis, the dream team at NOAA is predicting below average temperatures and above average snowfall for our region: “La Niña is favored to develop in September-November (71% chance), and is expected to persist through March 2025.”  Although projected as a weak La Niña, this type of weather occurrence usually results in plenty of snow for the mountains of the Northwest. If they could arrange this to occur on a consistent basis right before the weekends this year, I would appreciate it.   

Now I don’t normally give much thought to what the weird pseudo-scientists have to say when it comes to predicting the weather for winter, mainly because their predictions are not rooted in science and tend to be split year in and year out. While this season appears to be no different, I will give the chaps who are employed by the Farmers’ Almanac some props for being somewhat aligned with the professional meteorologists when it comes to their prognostication.  Evidently, they decided to lay off on the bong hits and magic mushrooms long enough to consult their crystal ball, which told them that the Northwest will experience a “chilly and wet” winter this year. I dig the chilly part. The wet part? Not so much. Keep that crap over on the west side, unless that means white goodness in our mountains.  

Conversely, the Debbie Downers from the Old Farmers’ Almanac really did their best to temper expectations this year, forecasting a “mild, snowy” winter for the mountains of Northeast Washington. Call me crazy, but mild and snowy don’t exactly go together, now do they?  Just pick one, preferably the latter. I’ve had my fill of mild winters, and really can’t afford to go Total Wine and Starbucks on a weekly basis this winter. 

 
Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski industry professional. He doesn’t even like Pumpkin Spice Lattes. 

The post Ski Bum Advice: Season Predictions for the 24/25 Season appeared first on Out There Venture.

Free the Noggin
I’ve been donning a brain bucket for many years, and I really do appreciate the added sense of safety and warmth it provides and encourage others to wear one. But once the temps hit the mid-40s, I do not enjoy the trickles of sweat that somehow seep into my eyes. Pro tip: salt and contact lenses do not mix well. Now, I don’t have the hairline to go commando, but there is something liberating about ripping turns while wearing a trucker hat and sunglasses. Plus, it looks cool. Well, as cool as a dude in his early 50s can look.

Cotton is King
There’s an old alpinist saying that calls cotton the “death cloth,” mainly because it does not provide much in the way of warmth and is completely worthless once wet. But, come March, who gives a rip? With the temps well above freezing and the warm sun hitting your face, spring is the time to break out the Champion sweatshirts and Nirvana t-shirts. Pay no mind to the snarky comments you are sure to get from the folks still rocking their $1,000 Patagonia shells. Deep down they are jealous.

Beers on the Lodge Deck
Seems like every year I witness several hardcore skiers or riders sipping barley pop on the deck in the middle of January, and I have nothing but respect for them. But not this cowboy. No my friends, beers on the lodge deck should be reserved for March and April, when the sun is glaring down and everyone is all grins. If you choose to forgo the hat and sunglasses, it is perfectly acceptable to just wear your goggles to shield your eyes. Does that look kinda weird? Yep, but after a pitcher of PBR, you really won’t give a crap how you look.

Parking Lot BBQs
Flatlanders probably think summer is the start of barbecue season, but for us mountain folks, it begins in March. Once spring hits, ski hill parking lots often look more like football tailgate parties than ski resorts, and nothing will make your stomach rumble after a great day on the hill like the smell of burgers and bratwurst sizzling over a hot bed of briquettes. If you are super cool with the guy manning the grill, you might just score a free lunch. If that doesn’t work, I know for a fact that trading a Nirvana t-shirt will get you a bacon cheeseburger and a beverage. //

Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski industry professional. It’s fair to wonder if he even skis before spring.

The post Why I Love Spring Skiing appeared first on Out There Venture.

This year, however, things didn’t turn out as I expected. After I dumped the sparse contents of my stocking across the coffee table, the room went deathly silent. I stared in disbelief at what was laid in front of me: one dried dog turd, two pieces of coal, and an unwrapped half-eaten Tootsie Roll coated with cat hair.

What did I do to deserve this? I thought I was pretty good this year. Well, mostly. And then it hit me.  Santa has an intelligence network that puts the CIA, KGB, and Mossad to shame, and I know he is tight with Ullr. It was then that I realized that the Norse god of skiing had told Santa all about my failures as a skier, which the fat man in the red suit used against me. Here is what I reckon I did to piss off Santa:

First, I know I was way behind in getting our sticks into the shop to get ready for the season. The mountains were already open when I finally got my poop in a group, but in my defense, I was very busy “burning stuff” on my days off. I’m also certain the condition of our skis added to Santa’s ire when he found out. Rather than cleaning them up and applying a coat of summer wax at the end of last season, I just threw them into storage. And let me tell ya, rusted edges and bone-dry bases do not sit well with the guy who keeps a naughty and nice list.

It also probably didn’t help that I had bought new boots for both myself and my better half over a year ago but put forth zero effort to get them dialed in over the course of last season. Instead of getting a boot-fitting appointment for both of us this fall, I blew it off and thought we would just suck it up this year. Alas, my mantra of “Pain is just weakness leaving the body” is not shared by Santa, and he knows all too well the consequences of ill-fitting ski boots on the feet of one’s significant other.

I think what the broke the camel’s back, however, was my negative winter weather predictions. Sure, the scientists have been yammering on and on about the lack of snowfall here in the PNW thanks to El Niño, but I should have tried to spin it in a more positive light. Rather than doing that, I reinforced the scientific position by saying stupid things like “Well, we had three years of good snow, so I guess our luck has run out,” or “I prefer groomed runs anyway,” or “My legs get tired from powder skiing.” I’m sure Santa mentally classified these statements as Dumb, Dumb and Dumber as he sprinkled cat hair on that Tootsie Roll.

I don’t like making New Year’s resolutions, but for this coming year, I’m taking the glass-is-half-full approach to whatever the forecast is, and I will be dropping off skis and my better half at the shop the day after the 4^th of July.

Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski industry professional. He has been on Santa’s naughty list since the late 1980s.

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