There is a distinct aesthetic difference in the erotic cinema of the 70’s and the stock of pornography that you currently find on shelves: grooming. And while the adult films of today generally consider it requisite to be groomed as smooth as a Tremblant Downhill course, skiers prefer the equivalent of our parents hidden stash of super-8 celluloid: deep and thick as a Nelson snowstorm. Incidentally, Nelson is a great example for this exercise of comparison. With its hairier-than-thou populace and its deep-as-Deep Throat snowstorms, the town typifies one of the biggest prejudices in freeskiing, the hatred of groomers.
Along with mogul runs and cross-country trails, corduroy has a shamed name in the book of freeskiing; we constantly overlook the thrill of a groomed run as we perpetually chase miniscule stashes of lumpy, week-old powder in tight trees. We mock the groomers as we race over them on our way back to the chair after a powder run. Like an out-of-work actress forced into B-film nudity, we feel we are somehow forfeiting our honour when our edges touch corduroy. And while most hills seem to employ drunken convicts to run their Bombardiers, sometimes they get it, and the result is glorious.
Much like porn, when grooming is bad, it’s really bad. But when it’s good, man is it ever good. Groomers are there for you when Mother Nature is not. When that bitch is holed up in her bedroom lamenting a sunny, frigid dry-spell, there’s corduroy waiting for you to dig an edge in and feel the g-force of a deeply set turn. There’s the groomer inviting you to bomb at full speed and boost every damn lip you see without regard for safety. There’s the groomer leading into a perfectly manicured park. There’s the groomer encouraging you to get right down and tuck that son-of-a-bitch, mockery from the chairlift be damned. Ah, God bless the groomer.
Sure, they’re not always great, often choked with punters and there’s no excuse for skiing them on a powder day. But sometimes, rarely, they show us it’s not about deep snow and hairy lines, it’s about keeping it as smooth as possible. And loving yourself. – Mike Berard
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I was thinking about this the other day… everyone MUST have a secret love for groomers. If for nothing else than the rush described above. Well stated.
great post, mike. i actually ‘won’ a pair of rockered skis last month at the TGR premiere here in Vancouver and am in the process of trading ‘em for a pair of groomer stix (Volkl AC 50 Unlimited – a ski that will rip a second asshole out of you on the groomers if you let ‘em run). Look at the serious trench diggin’ steeze that those junior racers lay down over on Whistler on the weekends – like – who would NOT want to ski like that??
Man, I gotta get my blog going again. Even better, a column so I can get paid for this…