MOUNTAIN LIFE - Blue Mountains | Winter 2020

44 Things got out of hand a few years ago when I discovered eastern skiing. Like, who wouldn’t, right? Now I could support my habit and not have to drive two hours to the airport, park, check in, wait at the gates, fly four hours, try to locate your skis in the carousel, maybe have them lost by the airline, rent a car or find a shuttle, and then drive two to four hours to the resort. Man, it was really crazy. But the east man, and the saved cost? It was just hiding the problem. Let me give you an example. Blue launched this Ikon Pass last year right? You can ski at Tremblant for free. Guys, Tremblant is an eight-hour drive. That’s something I could now do on a long weekend. It ruined my marriage. It really did. Now I was checking the weather for eastern storms, and believe me, Tremblant gets tons of snow! Four metres annually! And everyone just rips the groomers. Nobody is exploring that next stand of glades. There is deep snow everywhere. I couldn’t stop. Then I find out about Mont Blanc. It’s just down the highway from Tremblant. My wife had left me at this point so there was nobody for me to impress with my story of, “Look, the lift tickets are cheaper. And you can stay slopeslide for less than 250 bucks.” Mont Blanc has this old-time ski-club feeling that’s super rad and down-home Quebec. Me just walking everywhere and smiling and practicing my French with clever phrases like “J’aime faire du ski de poudre.” They have breakfasts there for like eight bucks served by some old lady with a super cranky attitude, saying things like, “Vos oeufs sonts prêts,” which I couldn’t understand at all but was probably something super cranky. I loved it. Man. Old-school slow chairlifts that creak. A little ski-racing club. Slopeside condos. And that sustained pitch? Wow. Your thighs will burn. We would ski over to the sidecountry beside the run, and the glades were spaced beautifully. They get four metres of snow there annually as well and it’s cold there, man. That means it could snow on a Tuesday and I could show up on a Friday and be schralping knee-deep all weekend. Sometimes these super-friendly dudes in red outfits with white crosses would come over and say, “C’est hors de portée mon ami,” and I was like “Oui, oui oui! J’aime faire du ski de poudre! Au revoir!” That type of thing. But man. My life is ruined. I’m hooked. I’m watching the weather non-stop now. Any new snow and I’m on the 401 heading east. I want to stop. That’s why I’m here. Welcome Phillip. Actually, never mind, you know what? I’m a fraud. I shouldn’t be here at this meeting. I’m not a recovered powder addict. I’m a full-blown powder addict. There is no hope for me. I’m going back to Quebec, yo! So shame on me, right! You know what? Vos oeufs sonts prêts, yo! And that means, probably like, “Get out of my way, I’m going powder skiing. Out east! Because I am a powder addict and I’m never going to stop!” 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.” Mont Blanc. ALAIN DENIS