Photographer Bryan Ralph once sold Sears washers. Now he sells photos. Click this photo of his to hire him.
I wrote this while still working at SKIER magazine, and I am still in awe at the passion and the ingenuity it takes many of my comrades to maintain a living in this industry. This one goes out to all of you. I hope you kill it this winter and become as rich as Markewitz is rumoured to be. – MB
Old habits, as they say, die hard. And it must be true; I can think of no other reason why I still insist on liberating towels, soap bars and tiny shampoo bottles from hotel rooms. I’m 29 years old and, although being a magazine editor is not the most lucrative job, I have started earning enough to afford basic toiletries. Nonetheless, I do remember a time, not that long ago, when it wasn’t that way. At one time in my life, simple things like toothpaste and toilet paper were a luxury; an afterthought better dealt with when the rent had been paid and the coreshots had been filled.
Looking back, it wasn’t a life full of riches but it was a rich lifestyle. I gained a valuable education from those hungry days, and the constant lack of cash flow helped form many of the habits that I still abide by. For better or worse, I can survive on a very small paycheque but, as a result, debt is a constant companion. I make killer spaghetti but I can’t stand eating pasta anymore. I can fall asleep anywhere at anytime but, as a result, am loath to pay for a hotel room or even a campsite. Couches, floors and minivans provide much cheaper accommodation. Nasty little habits like these stick around, no matter how much your income changes.
Last February, my stubbornness to not shell out cash for a hotel room left me in a familiar spot, poaching a couch off one of SKIER’s contributors. In an offer typically generous of the ski community, he let me stay at his place as long as I needed. As I was enjoying one of his beers in the shower, I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw a fine selection of hotel shampoos in tiny bottles lined up against the shower wall. It was at this point I was reminded how alike we are, myself and this gifted group of contributors I work with.
It’s not the first time it had occurred to me. I had the same epiphany during an introduction with a long time contributor which turned an early-morning breakfast meeting into a drunken late-afternoon lunch. We discussed the growing pains of our burgeoning ski towns and the accelerating loss of ski town culture (including a certain legendary strip club). Another time, I shared a snowy Blackcomb chairlift ride with a SKIER photographer, taking turns ranting about the challenging state of making a living in the ski photography business.
When I first got into this racket, back when stolen shampoo still mattered, the names in the bylines and photo credits in SBC SKIER were inspirations. And while they’ve since become my peers, I still find myself inspired by them. Needless to say, I am humbled by this motley crew of media professionals. Collectively, our contributor base includes a former pro bump skier turned photographer, a herpetologist (professional reptile geek for the uninitiated), an ornithologist (bird geek), a carpenter/real estate investor, a freestyle coach, an appliance salesman, a stonemason/TV host, a screenwriter, more than a few amateur horticulturists and a host of others who earn money by any means necessary in order to keep the crazy ski carousel spinning.
The unifying element of these people is not so much a passion for skiing but a passion for life itself. The ski lifestyle is often one of sacrifice and all of these people have given something up in order to do exactly what they want with their life. That’s why their photos and words resonate with readers, because they live the same life you do.
This winter, I plan to make as many turns in as many countries as possible; the same goal I have any other year. But this time around, I will do it with a whole new group of accomplices and friends who share the same goal: To collect as many shampoo bottles as possible. – Mike Berard
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
As a hotel owner I am disgusted that you stole shampoo and…..alright I’m just kidding. I don’t own shit really but I have lived in ski towns 16 of the past 17 years and I felt a real kinship to being poor and livin the dream. I hate paying for hotels or camp grounds and have habitated more basements and crawl spaces than my fair share. I almost think the pasta is a luxury. The condiment bar at ski areas is much more diverse and vitamin ladden. Ever make a saltine, hot sauce and relish sandwich? it’s good when you dip it in beer. Thanks for this article, made my day and justified the last two decades of lifestyle and somehow all my ducktape use.
What I like most about your cuisine choice is how you liberated condiments to save the cash for beer. Very nice.
I paid for a hotel the other day. A part of me died.
You’re losing it Jordan. Pretty soon, you’ll be exclusively heliskiing and taking pictures of rich Persian children snowboarding poorly. It’s only a matter of time.