Numerology is the belief in the divine, mystical relationship between a number and one or more coinciding events. In other words, the number of days you spent sliding on snow totally nails who you are.
0 to 9 days:
- Bummer about that ACL.
- You were kidnapped by a Mexican drug cartel in early December and are still imprisoned on an island in the Sea of Cortes.
- You have only been alive for 18 months. Clearly, no one understands how hard walking is with a full diaper, much less skiing.
- Welcome to our sport. Please refrain from using a Go Pro until you can carve a turn.
- You have three kids and two dogs and six goldfish and then there’s the kitchen remodel and the in-laws … Besides, Sweetums didn’t take to skiing and the bowling league meets at 11 on Saturdays. And the snow tires are shot and the weather never really looked all that good… (Next year, just buy a frickin season pass, will ya?)
- You are a lot more honest about what constitutes a “ski day” than the rest of us. You say more than 10 runs? Really?
- Your season pass has been amortized. Your life is in balance. Namaste.
- Dude, you’re legit. Your quiver is ready for any condition. You hit the sidecountry in the morning, skin in the afternoon and skate or Nordic when the woods aren’t filled in. People at the office have stopped asking where the F you are on Mondays. They know.
- You made it to every ski bum race, and more importantly, every ski bum race after party. That counts for 2 days, right?
- Congratulations! You successfully convinced your parents that a medical school degree requires 200 hours on ski patrol.
- You are an artist, bartender, pharmaceutical sales rep, truant officer, trustafarian or have enough disposable income to cover a season pass but not so much that anyone ever really wonders what you do with your day.
- You are a college student. Or at least last semester you were. If only Winter Storm Stella hadn’t coincided with midterms.
- You are a Burton employee and seriously concerned that if you don’t rack up more snowboarding days Jake will personally call you out. ‘Cause he already has like, 100.
- You are Jake Burton Carpenter.
- You are Win Smith.
- You are a career liftie.
- You are a fabulous guide de ski—that is French for ski instructor/escort. You speak nine languages. You have great hair, a perpetual tan and an accent that makes divorcees swoon. Your clients fly you around the world. You keep them from falling in crevasses. You nod approvingly at their powder turns. You call ahead to reserve the corner table at cafes in the Alps, the Andes, Chez Henri and the Octagon.
- You are a #brandambassador. That is social media speak for “unemployed but gets lots of schwag.” You have 30,098 followers on #Instagram. You have LOTS AND LOTS of stickers!!!! on your car, your helmet, your laptop, your pet goat…. You #hashtag everything, including the #personalhygieneproducts that helped you send it big last sesh for some #solidfooty. You are #EPIC!
- You are a snow reporter. That is HR speak for someone who gets up at 3 am, pops a Zoloft, drives to the mountain while channelling Pharrell Williams, ingests vast quantities of coffee, checks the snow stake and then bellows into the snow phone recording: “GOOOOOOOOOD MORNING SKIERS AND RIDERS! IT’S A FAN-TAST-IC DAY.” It is, of course, a Wednesday in January, negative 25 degrees and your leashed Berner is blowing sideways. But we love the spirit.
If you believe any of this, you may also want to read Vail Buys 17 Resorts, Plus Vermont.