(Written by Sam Cox - March 25, 2021)
It was a year of unknowns and new experiences. Nobody has a playbook for skiing during a pandemic. A couple of winters ago I moved, I still live in the mountains but no longer in a ski town. During a normal season, this means I spend some time on the road. I feel at home in a state of transit - finding solidarity with a meandering ribbon of pavement as it stretches ever onward, away from darkness and toward light, possibilities and hopefully powder.
However, this winter, my scope of reality was trained predominantly on the immediate local area. Borders remained closed, the snowpack was sketchy as fuck and it didn’t seem worth investing the time or energy to spread my wings and encounter the same setup elsewhere.
The reservation system at Bridger Bowl is dysfunctional at best, it’s a constant source of frustration. Sadly, it’s the least of Bozeman’s concerns. It’s difficult to watch something you love being destroyed. Admittedly, I’m angry, conflicted and confused because Bridger has been such a significant component of my life for almost 40 years. Everything is perspective, but to me, the community I grew up in is unrecognizable and broken. To a Covid refugee from New England, an adult onset skier with a Sprinter van from the Midwest or someone from the Bay Area with unlimited disposable income/time, it looks like Utopia. The soul is being priced right out of the ski area and city. Soon, the only thing left will be trust funders and tech geeks, languishing as terminal intermediates despite having brand new everything. They’re hell bent on gentrification and single origin, shade grown, organic beef burgers at the ski area cafeteria. Fuck it, the joke is actually on them - Bridger struggles to get 250″ of snow on a massive winter these days, frequently less than 200″ falls during operating. Did I forget to mention the lift lines? People move to Bozeman in droves, all from a “hot tip” in Outside Magazine. It’s unsustainable growth by any metric. I’ll take solace that I was fortunate enough to start skiing there in the 1980′s, long before the masses heard a whispered “Montana” drifting seductively on the wind. Then again, it could always be worse. There are thousands people who suffer from such an acute case of Stockholm Syndrome that they scramble over each other to purchase a season pass at Montana Snowbowl.
I don’t have the answers to the problems plaguing Bridger Bowl. All you can do is adapt, make the best of it and move on from from situations that bring you down. I’m an old dude with a broken back. I spend a lot of time solo, wandering around the woods getting weird and attempting to ski as much pow as possible. Meadow skipping, skin track sessions, sled laps or riding the lifts. Anytime I can indulge in these activities with friends, I’ll call it a victory.
A couple highlights from the winter of Covid - right turns, left turns and a quick season recap:
