Après Ski Beverages

Nothing, and I mean nothing, completes a great day on snow like throwing back a few adult beverages with your crew in the bar, especially if they are buying. Mix in a little karaoke of Pearl Jam’s Even Flow, and you got yourself one hell of a day. This year, however, was different. The bars were closed, though you could still purchase liquid courage for consumption in controlled areas outside.

That said, I quickly discovered that the walk from the bar across a slick deck in ski boots can be challenging while carrying shots. This certainly had nothing to do with the fact that my balance ain’t what it used to be as I approach the big 50. As a side note, nothing really gets the smell of spilled Jagermeister out of your pants.

Lodge Table Combat

During a “normal” season, one of my favorite people-watching venues is the lodge at lunch time. Few places so poignantly depict the true horror of humanity like a steamy lodge packed with sweaty teenagers, crying kids, and semi-intoxicated middle-aged adults who still think they are in their twenties.

As bad as that may sound, I really missed seeing it. I missed watching little Billy chucking a full Cup-O-Noodles at his sister while mom just gazed longingly at the peaceful slopes just beyond her reach. I missed watching the game the table lurkers played, waiting in the periphery to pounce on an open table the second it became available.

And I really missed the poor dads who got stuck in the lodge babysitting on a powder day, greeting every grinning, snow-encrusted skier who entered with a 1,000 yard stare that seemingly looked right through their souls. I feel ya bro—I’ve been there.

Strangers on the Chair

I really didn’t think I would miss the idle chatter with strangers on the chairlift, but, and I hate to admit it, I did on those days this year when I ventured to the hill alone. I really missed being told how I should look into getting new skis cuz mine are “too skinny,” or being enlightened on the location of the best powder runs, even though I know the mountain like the back of my hand.

I missed the smell of my unknown chairlift partner’s cigarette smoke that always seemed to drift right into me no matter which way the wind was blowing. Though the stench of an unfiltered Marlboro does work wonderfully to cover up the sickly smell of Kentucky sour mash whiskey breath.

Yeah, I’m hoping we get back to normal next year.

Brad Northrup is a former ski racer, coach, and ski bum. The CDC has recommended that you should stay as far away from him as possible.

[Feature photo by Aaron Theisen.]

The post Ski Bum Advice: Stuff I Missed This Season appeared first on Out There Venture.

Nowland started out skiing in the late 1970s, when he and some buddies scrounged up some gear from local thrift stores and hit the hills at Manito Park. And like many kids of that generation, there was hooky-bobbing behind older friends’ cars.

“We mounted our own stuff, but since we had no idea what we were doing, the screws went right through the bases. And we really didn’t care,” says Nowland. He “officially” started skiing at Mt. Spokane in 1985, taking advantage of $5 night skiing lift tickets and the ski bus that shuttled excited teenagers to the hill. “It didn’t matter how cold or wet it was, we would ski until last chair at 10 p.m. or until the lift operators kicked us off the hill.”

That same year, Nowland began working in the local ski industry, gaining a job at Sunset Sports Center, which later became Herman’s Sporting Goods. “One of my buddies got me a job as a rental dog, which later turned into ski tuning a year later.” By 1990, Nowland was the head ski tuner at the legendary Lou-Lou’s Ski Chalet, a position he held until the shop closed permanently in 2005.

During the summer months, Nowland ran the Rossignol Test Center at Mt. Hood, working with athletes from the US Ski Team and other national teams that trained on the Palmer Glacier. After Lou-Lou’s closed in 2002, he took his skills to the Spokane Alpine Haus on the South Hill, where he remains to this day. Over a 36-year span, Nowland figures he has touched somewhere around 175,000 pairs of skis.

After all of those years in the industry, you would think he would have seen it all. But, alas, the strangest thing Nowland witnessed didn’t occur until this season. “A guy was interested in buying some skis, and asked if the marked price was for each ski or for the pair,” he says. “I was dumbfounded by the fact that I had never heard someone ask that before.”

When not in the shop, Nowland spends his weekends at 49 Degrees North, where he serves as a mountain host, directing guests and assisting ski patrol when needed. “I love doing it,” he says. “I mean, it keeps me on the hill and forces me to go skiing, even on those days when I really don’t feel like it.” His perfect day on the mountain consists of no wind, full sun, and firm corduroy groomers, and his favorite run is Dreamline, which drops directly below the Sunrise Basin quad. “I kinda like the limelight of skiing that run—you gotta bring your A-game when you know people are watching from the chair.”

Despite three and a half decades of experience and a reputation as one of the finest ski tuners in the industry, Nowland has somehow managed to keep it all in perspective. “I started out getting stuck working all day in a basement with no windows, and 36 years later, I’m still working in a basement with no windows—guess it could be worse.”

Brad Northrup is a former alpine race coach, ski industry professional, and long-time contributor to Out There Venture.

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