Chapter 4: A Reminiscence of the Ski Bum
Skiing: the art of catching cold and going broke while rapidly heading nowhere at great personal risk. ~Author Unknown
As I sit here at my computer desk for the last time before packing up my dingy, most likely black mold-infested psuedo-apartment-slash-attic barely stilted above a very nice Mexican family below me in the main house, I can’t help but take a moment to metaphorically wake up from a 2 year long fever dream of epic proportions. It was the longest of the two years, it was the shortest of the two years. I can recall precise weeks of my time here and exactly what I did, and there are months that decided to completely elude my memory.
I was both prince and pauper here, experiencing feast and famine in short and long stints. Money in a tourist town comes in like the snow, and dries up like spring. Some days you’ll be buying a new set of skis without checking your bank account, and others you might have to look in your car’s middle console to find quarters to get that McDouble that you know for a fact will end this two-day hangover. I’ve had so many different types of gigs and jobs in this town that I couldn’t verifiably put them in a list for you. Although, I do know how to clean a deep fryer and cook a chicken tender to the optimal temperature with a subconscious poultry clock in my mind.
When it comes to South Lake Tahoe, the town I have called home for the past two years, there are two undeniable truths - When you date someone, you haven’t broken up, you’ve just lost your turn - and you will see more illicit substances than you have ever seen in your entire life. More on the latter, later.
South Lake is a town with a population of just about 25,000 year long residents. Now, if you do the math, with ages in that population, about 20,000 of them are retirees and families that live and work here in town. Not the retirees, obviously - they are here just to block affordable housing and whisper racial slurs in the top floor bar of the Hard Rock Hotel. So we’ve got 5,000 left. Let’s take out 3,000 of those for people that keep to themselves or for the couples that you see on instagram living the perfect life due to a very well arranged trust fund. So, technically, the social circle within South Lake is just about 2,000 people in my age and class range, and that’s being generous. You will meet these people, and these people will know you. After a good six months, you can’t go to Safeway without running into someone that knows your name, for good or for worse. If you go on a date with someone, you almost have to expect someone approaching you at the next bar you arrive at telling you that their ex just got out of prison and is looking for you. Now, it’s not that dire all the time, but you would be surprised with the amount of times I have seen and experienced that exact circumstance. It’s a town of people that have escaped something for greener pastures, without knowing the inevitable truth of the fact that problems don’t have a geographical location. It’s a town of people looking for a way out and ending up at a really, really, pretty wall. It’s like if a town was filled with people that came to life from Billy Joel’s song Piano Man. Now it’s a gorgeous town, on the outside. But the longer you live here, the easier it is to see the veneer slowly slide down and reveal the dark underbelly of a town that doesn’t have enough therapists in it’s gorgeous mountain side slopes to account for the even larger size of collective trauma. To quote a man named Breck who I worked with at the ski resort who was a life long South Lake resident - “You are either here for 3 years, or 30 - and 30 doesn’t look too pretty”. I decided to cut it one year short to be safe.
Now, there are exceptions to every truth. I’ve met, and became friends with, some of the kindest, truest, most wonderful people i’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. People that know exactly what they want, and how to share their passion and love with others. I’ve met these people in dive bars, at work, and even on the ski slopes, and they will be in my life until I can’t remember my own name. They took me under their wing as a new frosh ski bum, and taught me the ways of surviving in a town overrun by tourists. They taught me lessons I didn’t even know I needed to learn. And for that, I am forever grateful.
As someone who lived both as a corporate drone with a healthy salary and as a fry cook who’s only money goes towards a 10 pack of fireball shots for my days off on the slopes, i’ll tell you that both sides have their benefits and drawbacks. There’s a freeing nature and meditative state in being a ski bum, but with the mind altering substances constantly thrown at you, it’s hard to find your zen sometimes. The rose tinted glasses faded quite a bit ago living here, and now my sight is leading me into a different horizon. I’ll never regret my time as a ski bum here in Tahoe. It’s a life i’ve always wanted to live, even in a short stint. What started as a way to escape the pandemic became a way of life that I don’t think i’ll ever quite get rid of. So, with this, I’ll pack up my computer and move on to another mountain side to entertain children for the foreseeable future. To all of my friends in Tahoe - I love each of you individually, most likely for different reasons that I cannot explain. Thanks for the wildest 2 years of my life. Now, time to slowly pay off the credit card debt i’ve amassed living in this expensive fucking town.
And to those of you looking for a paragraph dedicated to the drug portion of the two truths, i’ll keep it simple because I know my family and possible future employers will be reading this - my mind has been expanded, and my mind has been shrunken. I’d like to think that they evened out.
Album Recommendation of the Week
Here’s my skiing playlist that i’ve amassed over 90 days on the mountain. It’s full of genres that go from both extremes of the spectrums. And before you judge me, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go is easily the best skiing song you can ever listen to on any mountain. If you disagree, get 90 days on your ski tracker and we’ll talk.
