This is the time of year when lots of resorts offer passes for the following winter season at screaming deals. For some of them all you have to do it put down a deposit and you can pay the rest in the fall. Here’s a sampling:
Now that Vail Resorts owns 8 resorts in Tahoe and Colorado, maybe this is a season to plan a road trip. Even the most expensive pass, the $659 Epic Pass, is a good deal considering there are no blackout dates. If you’re willing to give up some holiday periods or other high-traffic days, you can do a lot better. Put $49 by April 15th to get the best price: Snow.com.
At Tahoe’s Squaw Valley/Alpine Meadows. A dual-mountain pass is $379 to $729 depending on blackout periods: SquawValleyUSA.
Ski at Winter Park, Mary Jane and Copper Mountain SkiColorado with the Super Pass for $419. All that’s required is $49 down: SkiColorado.
Snowbomb.com is one of my favorite sites for picking up all sorts of ski-related deals. You can find decent discounts on 1 or multi-day tickets, plus deals on ski tuning and rentals. Snowbomb deals are mostly limited to California and Nevada resorts, but the company’s sister site, LiftTickets.com offers deals in Utah and Colorado.
I’m not as familiar with resorts on the East Coast, but at OnTheSnow, there are lots of deals for Vermont.
And did you know that if you buy your tickets online via LiftTopia — a site that offers tickets at resorts all over the world — you can save up to 80%?
Did you get your money’s worth on your ski pass this season?
Julia and I played hooky on Friday and headed to Alpine Meadows to participate a ski-a-thon fundraiser for The Wounded Warrior Project. We joined our friends the Kips who are dedicated to the annual event. Phelps Kip is an orthopedic surgeon in Reno who has worked with the U.S. Ski Team for many years, and for the last three years he and the Sierra Regional Spine Institute have also been major supporters of the annual WWP event. My husband Rob is a Navy veteran and so the Wounded Warriors is an organization that we enthusiastically support.
Wounded Warriors offers veterans a range of life-enhancing services, including a sponsored vacation that gives veterans a vacation and the opportunity to learn a new sport…skiing, snowboarding, sled hockey and golf among them. At Alpine Meadows, which has a world-renowned adaptive ski program, WWP teams up with Disabled Sports USA, to work with the veterans.
We gathered in the main lodge at Alpine Meadows at 8:00 a.m. and were each given a GPS unit that we were to keep on all day so our runs could be tracked and tallied (the team who got the most runs won a prize). We were given a list of chairlifts we had to ride two times each. From there is was up to us to decide which runs we wanted to take. Since harder runs earned higher points, the girls picked out a challenging series for us.
The conditions were challenging. The snow was Sierra Cement like you read about. Boot high slush that was very tough to turn in. But we made the best of it and completed our 14 runs in, well, not exactly record time (4.5 hours, including a leisurely lunch break).
All in all it was a great day in honor of a very worthy cause.
This video gives more detail about the event and Wounded Warriors:
There is just no way to get a cheap lunch at a ski resort (Okay, at Dave’s Deli at Squaw Valley you can pick up a hard-boiled egg for $1 or a deli sandwich for about $6, but that’s about as good as it gets).
Of course there are exceptions but in general the food is overpriced and not all that good. So I try to allow myself enough time in the morning to pack lunch. The kids can get some fries or a hot cocoa, but on most days that’s where I draw the line.
Anyway, I found a super easy take-along lunch that’s a huge hit with everyone in my house– shout out to my friend Courtney Corda at ScienceBuddies.org for the idea. Here’s what I bring: a jar of roasted red peppers, a slab of Boursin cheese spread and a baguette or some crackers.
With fruit, yogurt, and other snacks, it’s the easiest ski-lunch-in-a-pinch that I’ve found.
Have you found any affordable food options at your favorite resort? Or do you have any favorite lunch-on-the-hill options that you recommend? Please share.
My husband is one of those people who was a skier but after one day on a rented snowboard bought a board and never went back. No hemming, no hawing. That was about 15 years ago. When I decided to give snowboarding a try, I made the mistake of letting him try to teach me. But I digress. What this post is really about is wearing a helmet.
A few years ago, when I decided to learn to snowboard I had one or two of those head-slamming falls that left me seeing stars. I decided that perhaps wearing a helmet might be a good idea. Once I started wearing one to snowboard — and even though I only ride a couple of times a season — I figured I might as well just wear it all the time.
I can’t remember the last time I fell and smacked my head on skis, but just in case someone runs into me I feel better having one on. The last thing I need is a concussion. Plus, wearing a helmet keeps my head warm (and my hair dry).
These days I’m wearing a Smith Intrigue (the ivory colored one, above). It’s super warm when it’s cold out and has plenty of vents for when it’s not. Some people I ski with say they don’t like wearing helmets because of the dreaded goggle gap. But I wear goggles that are helmet compatible and I’ve never had brain freeze or developed a weird sun stripe across my forehead.
According to Ski-injury.com, an evidence-based website devoted to….yep, ski and other snow-sports injuries, ski injuries are relatively rare, and head injuries are in the minority. Still, I’m taking the approach that I might as well reduce all the risks I can. 80% of Swiss skiers wear helmets, compared with just about half of American skiers (though 77% of kids in the U.S. under age 9 wear them).
Do you wear a helmet? If not…why not? If you have kids, do they wear helmets?
So will you ever ski again? It was a question I was asked countless times during the months that I hobbled around on crutches. My answer for 266 days, until the morning I finally limped out my front door without a cast on my foot was, “Of course.”
That day, though, I had a moment when I wondered: Is it really worth it? Being on crutches for seven months and in a cast for nine…unable to drive for half a year…three surgeries and thousands, upon thousands, of dollars in medical bills….leg muscles so atrophied that I feared I’d never get them back. Oh, and I had a toddler and a preschooler at the time. It was a major inconvenience.
Today I happen to be thinking about those long months because it’s the 10th anniversary of the day I skied into a tree. Back then, when I explained to people who asked what had happened – that I had lost my balance when I veered into a tree-well while skiing in deep powder – the observations that followed ranged from “You’re lucky that’s all you hurt,” to “Skiing is just an accident waiting to happen.”
Yes, I was lucky. And the sport is relatively risky. But so is riding in a car without a seatbelt. What about smoking, skydiving, sitting on the couch and watching television for 15 hours a week. I don’t do any of those things. Skiing is my calculated risk. And I still love it.
I can be riding a chairlift to the top of Mt. Rose, the resort closest to my house, 35 minutes after pulling out of my driveway. In less than an hour, I’m at Squaw Valley. I’m a lifelong skier yet I still feel the thrill of anticipation before each run. Sometimes I find myself laughing out loud as I tear down a slope, or whooping with joy.
I was never more patient with my children than during their earliest days on skis.
Before my accident, without fail, I would stop at least once during the day, take a deep breath, look at the snow-covered Sierras surrounding Lake Tahoe and think, “I am the luckiest person on the earth; I have parents who taught me to ski as a child; I live in this beautiful place; I am healthy.” That hasn’t changed.
These days, though, I also feel the pinch of one of the pesky screws that remains in my right leg every time I push against the tongue of my ski boot. This is what my not-so-bionic leg looks like:
One of these days I’ll succumb to another surgery and have all the hardware removed. But in the meantime, that pesky screw is just another reminder of how lucky I am to be out here.
Have you ever been injured doing a sport you love? Did it change the way you do things?