MOUNTAIN LIFE - Blue Mountains | Winter 2020

43 words :: Phillip Nathans Hello, my name is Phillip and I am powder addict. Hello Phillip. I have been addicted to powder turns, for, well, pretty much ever since that night at Blue 10 years ago. All I can remember is that, to be honest, I hated it. It’s a hazy memory. It was cold. Nighttime. Snow blowin’ in off the Bay. Snow guns blasting. Fingers frozen.“C’mon out tonight,” my buddy says on the phone. “It’s epic out there.” My wife was like, “No way,” but—I felt this tug inside of me. And that same tug has, well, that’s why I’m here talking to you here today. To be honest I thought it was crazy. It had just snowed two feet, snow squall warnings in effect everywhere. Roads deserted. Absolutely nobody was skiing Blue. I felt bad for the lifties. Meanwhile my buddy was going everywhere. In the trees—tight, tight trees. Branches whipping you in the face. I couldn’t keep up. Eventually my buddy pops out on a closed run. Wide open. Deep snow everywhere. “Yow,” he yells. And off he goes. Meanwhile, my thighs are burning. Ski tips burrowing. I was in the back seat, leaning as far back as I could. Calf muscles crampin’. I fell. Couldn’t get up. Snow inside my gloves, inside my jacket, all cold against my waist. “This freaking sucks,” I mumbled, and I cursed my buddy. But one glorious day in February we came around this clearing and found this untouched powder field and everything clicked for me. I mean everything. My whole life made sense. I couldn’t stop smiling. I think I said something like, “Dude, sick, that run, like snow deep n’ like awesome all floaty wow.” But I had no idea how addictive that feeling was, man. When was that? 10 years ago? Ever since then my life has revolved around the question of, Where do I get my next powder fix? Summers? They are hard. Really hard. Like, I mountain bike, OK that’s awesome. I surf. Yep. Great Lakes? Ha! Nothing compares to deep snow. My wife found out five years ago when she saw my credit card bill. Plane tickets to Vancouver, shuttles to Whistler. Accommodation. I even went heli-skiing once. That’s why I have no car now. Sold it. To afford the freakin’ guide gratuity (that’s another story). RESORT TRIP EAST MY POWDER PROBLEM On a trip to Tremblant and Mont Blanc, our correspondent comes clean Bootpacking to The Edge, Mont Tremblant. GLEN HARRIS