Updated September 8, 2025
This was a long time ago, back before I ever thought about teaching or guiding. I was just another skier rolling into a new mountain, half lost, half stoked and fully convinced I knew how to get the most out of a day.
I showed up with a folded trail map in my pocket and no real plan other than ride until my legs gave out. It was one of those mornings where you feel like the mountain is keeping its cards close. Groomers were wide and empty, but the snow felt flat. I didn’t know enough then to realize that the best runs were already getting tracked by people who knew the place better than I ever could.
The Before
When you ski somewhere new and you don’t know anyone, you ride like a tourist. You stick to the lifts that look busy, you follow the black diamonds on the map thinking they’re the “real” challenge and you spend half the day trying to work out shortcuts with no clue if they even exist.
That was me.
I thought I was covering ground, but the truth is I was skiing the mountain like an outsider. I could get vertical feet, sure, but I wasn’t finding the mountain’s rhythm.
Looking back now, after ten years working in the industry, I can see it for what it was.
Every mountain has its own patterns. Locals know which chair to lap before the wind shuts it down, which line gets sun-softened just before lunch, and which stash refills while everyone else is queuing for the gondola. Back then I had none of that. I just skied what was obvious.
Meeting the Locals
My first full snow season. It was one of those slow lifts where you’ve got no choice but to make small talk. I ended up next to a couple of guys who clearly knew every inch of the place. Their skis were beat to hell, one of them had duct tape holding a pole grip together, and they talked about lines that didn’t exist on the trail map. Not in a braggy way, just like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I was new to the mountain and it probably showed. They asked where I’d been riding and when I rattled off a couple of obvious runs, they just kind of smirked. A few chairs later I was following them into a tree line I would never have spotted on my own. No map, no trail sign, just a little dip off the side that opened into a whole different mountain.
The Shift
That first drop into the trees changed the whole day. I’d been skiing like a tourist and suddenly the mountain opened up. They showed me little cut-throughs I would have blown past, stashes that still held soft snow even though the main runs were tracked out, and ways to link lifts I never would have pieced together on my own.
It wasn’t about secret spots so much as rhythm. They knew when to move, where to head next and how to work the mountain instead of letting it work me. I was just trying to keep up, grinning like an idiot the whole time.
Reflection
Looking back now, it feels obvious, but at the time it hit me hard. Maps only tell you where the lifts go. Locals show you how the mountain really rides.
I’ve been instructing and guiding for a decade since that day and I still chase that same lesson. Whenever I land somewhere new, I look for the people who know the place better than I ever could. Because skiing with locals isn’t about finding hidden stashes — it’s about seeing the mountain the way it’s meant to be skied.
The Takeaway
So what am I rambling about? When you drop into a new mountain, ski with the people who already know it. That might be a couple of locals you meet on the chair, or it might be a guide from the independent school in town. They know the flow of the lifts, the way the snow packs into different aspects and which lines are fun versus which ones are just dumb risk. You can spend half a season figuring that stuff out yourself, or you can pick it up in a day by following the right people.
A few other lessons that stuck with me:
Maps lie. They show lifts and names, not how a mountain actually rides.
Locals read weather like a second language. They know when a line softens, when it sets and when to stay away.
Independent schools and guides are worth it. Way better than signing up for a corporate “ski experience” that teaches you nothing.
Safety isn’t optional. Following random tracks is how people end up in body bags. Follow locals, not strangers. Buy a transceiver. Practice using it.
Most people ski like tourists. That’s fine, but if you want the real mountain, stop lapping groomers all day.
Apres is part of the education. Locals will show you where to actually go, not the overpriced bar the resort wants you in.
Some locals don’t want you there. That’s fair. Respect the vibe, don’t snake lines and you’ll usually be fine.
Resorts don’t care if you get hurt. They care about liability. If you want someone watching your back, find a local guide.
Final Thoughts
That first day tagging along with locals was years back, long before I ever wore an instructor’s jacket. Since then I’ve guided and taught for over a decade. But I’ll still seek out links with local skiers ahead of a new trip.
Not just for secret stashes, but for safety, perspective and the little bits of mountain culture you only get from people who’ve been riding there their whole lives. Maps and apps will never replace that.
If you’re serious about getting the most out of a trip, book a local guide or take a session with one of the independent schools. They’ll not only show you the goods, they’ll keep you out of trouble. The mountain always has another side to it and the locals are the ones who open that door.
