Sorry Babe, It's a Powder Day

Sometimes on a good snow day I purposefully seek out a friend who skis slower than me so that I can look down from some sort of high-road perch at all the snowboard rats and ski bums in this place that accept the saying, “There are no friends on a powder day,” providing justification for them to ditch anyone who can't keep up on the mountain.

It's not that I've never lost someone on a run and then hopped on the lift without them, but the blatant attitude of, “no friends on a powder day,” suggests that there is a measurable division separating our relationships from an activity we love. We shouldn't have to decide between the two, but often we do.

Maybe it's because I feel this way and I subconsciously attract friends with similar attitudes, but I seem to know an awful lot of girls in this town who really really like skiing, but aren't so obsessed with it that the idea of living somewhere without a mountain in the background is impossible. These women might rather, say, have a lazy morning in bed, than wake up in the dark and cold to catch first chair.

This, however, is not the choice their boyfriends would make.

And it's not like boyfriends are cheerfully calling out, “Come with me, we can do this together!” as they brew an extra cup of coffee. It's more like, “I know it's our anniversary babe, but we got 12 inches last night...I'll give you 6 later,” as they run out the door.

So how do we, the women who are super AWESOME but not crazy adrenalin junkies, respond?

1. We try to make it a couple's activity: 

But...usually we aren't exactly on the same page speed wise, and if you've ever had to wait for your visiting gaper friends and family to get down the hill you understand that isn't sustainable.
The other day my friend Gwen was commenting on her boyfriends inability to wait for her on the slopes, “My goal this year is for us to ride together once or twice, like actually together, not to just sit on the same lift for a few runs.”

Good luck, I say to her.

2. We fake enthusiasm, and not just for snow sports, people here are also crazy about their summer near death activities: 

My friend Hannah's boyfriend wanted her to enjoy mountain biking as much as he did, so they bought a new bike for her this season.

How does she like it?

“It terrifies me,” she confesses one day over lunch. Not in a good way.

3. We stick around, even when we are sooo over this dinky tourist ski town: 

“Everyone knows the only reason I'm still here if because of him,” Jenny admits,  “Everywhere else we've looked at is too far away from the mountain.”

And Jenny loves riding, she really does, just not to THAT point.

There's only so much a girl can put up with, and some of my friends have decided to ditch the dude and try out the "real world" that exists beyond this snow globe.  I imagine they'll find there the truth of the matter is that hobbies, and interests of all kinds, can drive a wedge through a relationship if you let them. Musicians hit the road, triathletes push through arduous training schedules, and career minded breadwinners stay late at the office.

In Vail it just happens to be the mountain in between. 

But is it really?

            Remember Jenny, who claimed to stay here just because of her man? 

They broke up a couple months ago.

She's STILL here.

Isn't that odd.
Maybe we like it more than we admit?