The morning air is crisp and just as I start crossing the road, my avalanche backpack on and skis over my shoulder, my mom has already clicked into her bindings and is taking a first stride up the track. It’s cold, so I know I won’t see her for at least the first pitch- her pace is almost a run uphill if she needs to warm up.
Half-way up our climb, mom insists I go first, ignoring the fact that she has been way out ahead of me all morning. I am breathing hard, taking my time to get my water bottle and fuel myself with some cashews and almonds. I know it’s not worth arguing about who goes first, so I take the lead, occasionally checking back to confirm that I’m navigating the terrain safely. Something that comes with age is also experience, and I try to pick up everything I can from a woman who has spent over four decades in Idaho’s off-the-beaten-path mountains.
We reach the top of our desired pitch for the day, and just as I look up from switching out my jackets, my mom has already changed clothes, taken her ski skins off, and is ready to drop in. She waits patiently as I catch up. Then: we ski. She lets out a little giggle scream of joy as snow flies up on her first turn, and by the time I hit a stopping place below a tree, I am fully laughing. How is skiing so fun?! Skins on, back to the top to ski out, and then there it is- mom asks, “One more?”
My mom is my best backcountry ski buddy. Simply put, she kicks my butt. She always has, and at this point, I’m convinced she always will. In a wonderfully bizarre way, it’s empowering. It creates the perspective that getting older is something to look forward to, rather than something to dread. First, I found myself thinking I can’t wait to hit my prime at 50, then it was 60, and now it’s 62.
Spending time in the outdoors with others, creates an indescribable bond. Blatant, I know, but I have never been able to quite put my finger on why… is it the all-inclusiveness of a car ride, an adventure, and inevitably enjoying PB & Js that taste five star because you’re gloriously exhausted and hungry? Is it being in places with no cell service so that you are more present? Or is it that simply sharing an experience together in the elements unveils the simple things that are truly important?
Sharing adventures with my mom takes this bond to another level. Skiing with her now, I have a quiet and humble recognition of how much I have to learn from her (for me, it has held more and more true that the more we know, the less we know- my 30th year was a reinforcing butt kicker on that!). The patience, knowhow, respect and joy my mom radiates while navigating on skis is something I watch and learn with every step and every turn. Underneath her giggle screams, she probably figured out a long time ago that taking her daughters to the mountains will teach them everything they need to know.
Kira is a freelance writer and the co-founder of the whole wellness getaway company KULAvie. She is a yoga, kayak, and ski instructor who is passionate about connecting people with the outdoors and has had the privilege of working in Idaho, North Carolina, Chile, Nepal, India, Uganda, Zimbabwe, and the Tibetan Plateau.
