This is awkward to admit given the name of the site, but here we are.
Some of the best ski and snowboard days of my life have had absolutely nothing to do with powder.
Not a flake falling. Not a face shot. Not a single photo worth posting.
And honestly, it took me way too long to realise that.
The Powder Myth
Powder days are loud.
They dominate group chats, weather apps, social feeds and half the conversations on chairlifts. We’re trained to believe that deep snow equals a good day, and anything else is just killing time until the next storm.
I’ve built trips around storms. Woken up stupid early. Rushed breakfast. Skipped warm ups. Skied tense all day because the conditions felt precious.
And yeah, sometimes those days are incredible.
Other times they’re rushed, crowded, stressful and weirdly unsatisfying once the hype wears off.
The Days That Actually Stick With Me
When I think back to days I remember clearly, they’re rarely about snow depth (except a couple of unbelievably epic Japan lines).
They’re the random March days where the base was deep, the sun was out and nobody was in a hurry. The lifts spun smoothly. The legs felt good. Jackets stayed unzipped.
They’re days teaching where everything clicked for a student and you both rode away buzzing. Days where the snow was soft enough to forgive mistakes but firm enough to trust.
They’re days where we rode until last lift not because the conditions were legendary, but because it was just fun to be there.
No stress. No chasing. No disappointment when things did not live up to expectations.
Powder Can Ruin a Day
Ever heard the phrase “no friends on a powder days”.
Fuck that.
(‘scuse my French)
Skiing with friends is undoubtedly the zenith of skiing.
But powder days can make people weird.
They rush. They leave friends behind. They cut lines. They ski terrain they are not ready for. They measure their day against an unrealistic standard instead of just riding what’s in front of them.
I’ve seen more frustration, injuries and bad decisions on powder days than on any other.
When everything is built up as the best day ever, anything less feels like a letdown. Even when it should not.
The Irony
It’s not lost on me.
I’ve spent years chasing storms, forecasts and conditions. I still love powder. I still get excited when it dumps overnight.
But I’ve also learned that chasing snow too hard can make you miss the actual point.
The best days are not always the deepest. They’re the days where you ride relaxed, laugh more and stop checking your phone for the next update.
Sometimes the best snow is simply snow that lets you enjoy yourself. Maybe the real powder is the friends we made along the way… (haha).
An Ode to Slush
Slush is crap snow that somehow makes great days.
It’s slow, heavy, and looks terrible in photos. But it lets you ride tired, ride loose, and ride without consequence. You can try stuff you’d never attempt mid-winter because falling doesn’t feel like a mistake.
Nobody’s pretending it’s epic. Nobody’s stressed. You lap, you laugh, you go home sunburnt and slightly dehydrated.
That’s slush. And it works.
Final Thoughts
If you love powder, great. So do I.
Just don’t let it become the only thing that counts.
Some of the best days on snow happen when expectations are low, crowds are gone and you’re not trying to prove anything to anyone.
Those days do not show up in storm totals or highlight reels.
They just stay with you longer.
And honestly, those are the ones worth chasing.
