Updated April 25, 2025
You haven’t truly suffered until you’ve gone snowboarding with a group of skiers.
It’s not a holiday, it’s an endurance event. A psychological experiment. A lesson in patience, leg burn, and watching your so-called friends disappear over yet another flat traverse yelling “just unstrap!”
Let me walk you through the hellscape…
Chairlift Conversations You Didn’t Ask For
“Do you ever wish you skied?”
No, Karen. I like fun.
I like one edge, one plank, and one clean carve that doesn’t look like I’m sweeping a driveway.
Also, thanks for telling me (again) that snowboarding died in 2009. You’re right. That’s why all the ski brands keep releasing “surf-inspired” boards with swallowtails now. Because it’s so irrelevant.
Let’s Talk About Traverses
Oh, traverses. Flat cat tracks designed by Satan himself.
The moment I hear “it’s just a short skate to the next lift,” I know I’m about to unstrap and walk a 60-degree incline. Alone.
Every trip becomes a cardio session. I didn’t come here for CrossFit—I came to float through pow and boost the occasional side hit.
The Group Pause So the Skiers Can Emotionally Recover
At some point on every run, the skiers will stop. No one knows why. There’s no view. No danger. No need. Just some sort of shared psychic skier sense…
Maybe someone’s too cold?
Someone’s boots are “a bit weird today.”
One of them needs to emotionally recover from a slightly firm turn.
Meanwhile, you’re strapped in, cooking in your jacket, wondering if a hug, a physiotherapist, or a shot of fireball might encourage them to move on.
But you wait. Again. And swear quietly into your balaclava.
They All Want to Ski Trees
Trees are fun—until you’re chasing skiers. They thread the needle. You plow through. They wait at the bottom like it’s cute.
No, I didn’t take “the wrong line.” I was just busy surviving.
Après Unity Is a Lie
You think we’ll all bond over beers at the end of the day. You’re wrong.
They’ll sit there talking about ski edges, boot flex, and some guy called Jérôme they met in Chamonix who does telemark, whatever that is. Meanwhile, you’re wondering whether it’s too late to fake an injury and go home.
“You Guys Take So Long to Strap In”
Yeah? Well, you spend 10 minutes clicking into your bindings, checking your GoPro angle, tightening your boots again, and somehow still fall getting off the lift.
Strapping in takes 10 seconds. Waiting for you to fix your DIN settings for the 17th time takes years off my life.
(See my earlier point on emotional recovery checkpoints).
The Lone Snowboarder Checklist
How to Tell You’re the Only Snowboarder in the Group (And Why That Sucks)
- Every run starts with a traverse and ends in a cat track
- Someone says “just unstrap” like they invented it
- You're encouraged to “try skis” at least once a day
- You’ve walked more than you’ve ridden
- Someone talks about carving and brings up their hips
- They all sit comfortably on the lift—you're on the edge, suffering
- Après talk includes DIN settings, racing skis, and “my guy Lars from Verbier”
How to Survive Riding With Skiers (If You Must)
1. Never trust a “short traverse”
If they say it’s short, it’s long. If they say it’s flat, it’s uphill. Unstrap early, skate hard, or demand they carry your board. You’ve earned it.
2. Get the drop first
Skiers love to snake. It’s not personal—it’s just what they do. Drop first, ride fast, and make them wait for you at the bottom.
3. Stick to terrain you can actually ride
Avoid icy moguls, flat meadows, and “fun little gullies” that require pole propulsion. You’re not here to suffer for their alpine fantasies.
4. Don’t feel bad for taking a second to strap in
They need that time to tighten their boots, fix their goggles, have a cry and complain about their knees anyway.
5. Let them talk about skis. Then go ride.
You don’t need to win the debate. Just wait until you hit a natural hip line and remind them what style actually looks like.
Final Thoughts
I love my skier friends.
I just don’t want to ride with them.
They mean well. But they don’t get it.
They don’t know the pain of a needless flat section.
They don’t know the joy of a proper heelside carve.
They don’t know how much restraint it takes not to “accidentally” spray them in the lift line.
So yeah, I’ll keep tagging along. But deep down?
I’m planning a solo trip.
