The views expressed belong to the writer and do not necessarily reflect City and Slopes’ official position on the issue.
I’ve been making the argument for years now, that the rivalry between skiers and snowboarders is antiquated.
Sure, it’s fun to be competitive, and to divide ourselves into tribes. But when I tell my coworker “Oh, I’m going skiing this weekend,” the first thing he says probably shouldn’t be, “But I thought you were a snowboarder.”
It’s the same thing, man, we do the same thing. We both wildly lose control falling down a snowy mountain and take faceplants on the knuckles of jumps. It really isn’t that dissimilar.
As a lifelong snowboarder, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard a skier say, “Get outta here, snowboarder!”
Even in jest, it’s sort of… annoying? Like, extra. Like, “Oh you like pineapple on your pizza? Let’s not get pizza together.”
On a ski-lift, if you’ve got mixed company, you can get a little tangled, what with the feet and the one strap, and the skiers trying to just look straight forward, and the snowboarders unhooking and dangling their board from one tender foot. You might get things twisted around the footrest so that when everyone goes to put the bar back up, it gets stuck and you get it unstuck dangerously late so that everyone almost misses the off-ramp. Nobody wants to have to ride all the way back down the mountain on the lift like one of the ski-less lifties at the end of their shift. Nobody wants that. But regardless, it’s okay, because snowboarders are pretty sharp and try not to do that too often.
My self-assurance is way too fragile for all of my skier buddies to be ragging on me all day when we’re out on the mountain. Sure, no matter how hard I try, I will never beat you in a race, but we’re going to the same place. As long as there’s no slight uphill grade. In that case, I will absolutely need to either unstrap and hop, or hang onto your pole while you laboriously tow me up the traverse. Thanks for that by the way.
The history of the notorious skier vs. snowboarder rivalry dates back to the dawn of snowboarding in the 60s and into the 70s and 80s, when the snowboard wasn’t called a snowboard yet, but a snurfer, modeled after surfboards and created by surfers trying to keep the party going all winter-long.
Admittedly, back at the height of the craze in 1985, the crude plank of wood was quite dangerous, and was putting a lot of people at risk–mostly the kids riding the snurfers, but also the wholesome, conservative skiers in neon ear warmers who were trying to mind their own business, skiing moguls and practicing their pizza and french fries.
Eventually, with some luck and a lot of trial and error, Jake Burton, and innovators like him, were able to standardize and commercialize the board into the sport we know today. By now, technologically, we can do basically all the same stuff as skiers can.
These days, there remain a few last outposts of self-proclaimed skier superiority by continuing to forbid snowboarders from skiing (yes, skiing—it’s the same verb). Two are in Utah, Alta and Deer Valley, and one is in Vermont, Mad River Glen.
Some years ago, when I went to Alta with a group of skier friends, if I had attempted to ride the lift with my snowboard, management surely would have chopped my board in half and forced me to ride down with separated feet. And so I had to learn to ski just to enjoy the mountain that day. It was my first time ever ski-skiing, and it was actually quite easy and enjoyable, comparatively. I don’t know how people can just allow themselves to be challenged so little and have such freedom of movement.
Ultimately, I think we all want to be accepted for who we are. We all got into this sport for similar reasons. It’s fun. We feel hardcore. It’s good exercise. We get outside. We can bond with friends. And we can feel the unbridled magic of shredding that sweet sweet pow pow. If I do it on one stick, or you do it on two, let’s just call a rose a rose, ride the lift together, and meet up for a beer at 4:30.
Jacob Moss is a filmmaker based in Bushwick, Brooklyn. His work has been featured at Vice and USA Today. He learned to snowboard at ten by building little jumps on his backyard hill. His favorite mountain is Cannon in Franconia, NH, and he likes getting lost in the trees. When he's not filmmaking or snowboarding, he rock climbs, mountain bikes, reads dystopian fiction, plays guitar, and goes to shows.