Powder Days: The Hidden History of Skiing and the Legend of the Ski Bum

by Heather Hansman

An electrifying adventure into the rich history of skiing and the modern heart of ski-bum culture, from one of America's most preeminent ski journalists

The story of skiing is, in many ways, the story of America itself. Blossoming from the Tenth Mountain Division in World War I, the sport took hold across the country, driven by adventurers seeking the rush of freedom that only cold mountain air could provide. As skiing gained in popularity, mom-and-pop backcountry hills gave way to groomed trails and eventually the megaresorts of today. Along the way, the pioneers and diehards--the ski bums--remained the beating heart of the scene.

Veteran ski journalist and former ski bum Heather Hansman takes readers on an exhilarating journey into the hidden history of American skiing, offering a glimpse into an underexplored subculture from the perspective of a true insider. Hopping from Vermont to Colorado, Montana to Virginia, Hansman profiles the people who have built their lives around a cold-weather obsession. Along the way she reckons with skiing's problematic elements and investigates how the sport is evolving in the face of the existential threat of climate change.

Riveting, action-packed and beautifully written, Powder Days is a love letter to a high-stakes sport and the definitive tome for ski lovers everywhere.

Genres: Nonfiction, Sports, Memoir, Outdoors, History, Adventure, Environment

1 pages, Audio CD

Published November 9, 2021

Reviews

[Heather · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Actually pretty good"-my mother

[Heather]

"Actually pretty good," -my mother.

[Aimee LaGrandeur · Rating 5 out of 5]

Heather Hansman read. My. Mind. As someone who grew up second generation ski bum in a ski town and returned post-grad, every element of this book hit home. Hansman does a phenomenal job of balancing poetic & prosaic descriptions of skiing, ski culture, and the elusive ski bum with a no-holds-barred analysis of the pervasive elitism, sexism, and racism in skiing. Hansman leaves no stone unturned, considering the brain chemistry of risk takers, mental health & addiction, climate change and corporatization. This is a book I will be making everyone in my life read, mailing to the Mayor, and likely purchasing for continued reference; “Powder Days” is required reading for everyone who lives, loves, and plays in ski towns. On a fun side note, “Powder Days” also perfectly married the reality of skiing and watching it change with environmental sociology theories and concepts that have been living in my brain post-thesis, and reading someone else reference solastalgia relative to ski-towns made me feel very validated.

[K · Rating 1 out of 5]

Took a DNF on this one. There's a little history in there and the stories of people are okay, but the author comes off way too name-drop-happy and "I'm qualified because I was a ski bum back in the day." There are also just a bunch of surface level touches on things like climate change and diversity in skiing that don't really go anywhere and don't really address contradictions that exist in that space (ex. "We want more diverse skiers, but we have way too many skiers"). The author utterly fails to move me into feeling bad for the ski bums who, in many ways, chose to opt out of the ski town communities back in the day, and are lamenting that they have no opportunities to get in now. Yes, there are serious economic/employment issues surrounding these areas, but in regards to the ski bums: you made your bed and now you get to lie in it.

[Kaeleigh Reynolds · Rating 5 out of 5]

She fucking nailed it. Should be required reading for anyone in a mountain town with any semblance of power, or who makes over $35k/yr (like who are you and how did you get that job haha only not funny). Shit is fucked up real bad, and a small handful of people/corporations/systems are to blame, plain and simple. And required reading for anyone who just wants to feel seen! Her descriptions of moving to the mountains to work an entry level resort job and all the cultural, social ongoings that come with that are hilariously accurate, especially as a girl. Maaaan, ski towns - can’t live without em, literally can’t live in em!

[Tallie · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. I appreciated a lot of the insights and perspective Hansman had on being a female skier in a male-dominated industry and culture, though I wish she had spoken more to this experience and examined other female skiers a little more. As well, Hansman interviewed many "older" bums, who were mainly men and who had already established housing in mountain towns before the housing boom. Though she did interview one man in his 20s working at big sky, I wish she would have interviewed more people in their 20s who were entering the current "bum" lifestyle while having to deal with low wages and high rent, if they could find housing in the first place. In all, I appreciated her insight and examination of multiple ski towns throughout the US.

[Dan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this. I grew up skiing, but haven’t been able to ski as much as I’d like during my adult life. Health reasons, time, and cost are my big hurdles, but I’m grateful I was given the opportunity to ski as a young person. I still work in a mountain town, so this book touched on a lot of issues I care about like affordable housing and climate change. Highly recommended if you ski or live/work near a ski area.

[Lance · Rating 3 out of 5]

This memoir about a "ski bum" was okay at best. At the risk of sounding like a grumpy old "get off my lawn" kind of person, I felt that this book is best suited for readers under the age of 30 who prefer the adventure of getting out and doing whatever feels right. Even with the author's occasional regrets, it is easy to tell that this is the lifestyle for her and while it wasn't the type of book or memoir that I prefer, I give her props for two reasons: one, her chapter on the history of skiing was excellent - the best part of the book for me. Two, it is clear that she is writing from the heart as well as the head and that she has accumulated a wealth of knowledge and experience with many aspects of the sport. I do recommend this for those who live the "ski bum" life or enjoy visits to ski resorts.

[Vyla · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think this is a book that only people who have some relation to ski towns will like, specifically seasonal workers/ not rich second home owners that spend a few weeks in the mountains a year. And, just coming off a season working on the mountain in Aspen, this is a book I really related to and found a lot of personal interest in.

The author dives into all subjects surrounding ski towns and the people who live there. She spends a winter traveling around the west, skiing with locals and trying to answer the impossible question, “Is ski bumming still possible?” There’s no clear answer, but it seems the true form of ski bumming is nearing its end.

She discusses mountain lifestyle, economics, risks, mental health, etc. I thought a lot of the conversations seemed necessary and very relevant to the current state of mountain towns.

Some things I didn’t like: I felt like it was super reparative. There were a lot of things that were said multiple times and I always hate that. There were also so many big words and fancy writing. Personally, I don’t love looking up words I don’t know every other page. I will also stand by the idea that simple writing is better.

Overall, this was a great book to read as my winter in Aspen comes to an end. It felt personal, as some of the aspen locals I knew were mentioned and so many of the spots I frequented. A winter of being in the mountains and skiing can come off so glamours, but there can be a dark side and I think this book does a great job of capturing that.

[Jessica Chapman · Rating 2 out of 5]

File under: "Should have just been an article."

[Diane · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was excited to read this book as we've been in a mountain town for over a couple of decades. However, we chose to work and have a family and own a home before we made the commitment to a second home in the mountains, at the age I presume the author is now. My daughter has always been drawn to the mountains as described but we encouraged her to get a degree in global tourism if that was where she wanted to live out her life. After teaching on the mountain which she loved, she worked a season in the Vail offices which she hated, and returned to school for a nursing degree, another occupation suited for the mountains.
Being a ski bum is exciting, and ski bums love to brag they are ski bums to validate their own self worth. Our next door neighbor bought his house with money gifted from family because after decades of teaching on the mountain he didn't have a pot to piss in. Arrogant to no end, and lacking common sense, he eventually lost his house in foreclosure.
A ski bum from decades ago is no different from the neuroscience graduate who dog walks for a career instead, or the veterinarian graduate who is making a living taking pictures (2 real life millennials we know). Its fun and doing what you really enjoy but will it sustain you? Will you be able to survive decades down the road? I'm all in for a year or two before real life, but a whole life living in a fantasy? And then wanting to blame the system for unaffordable housing and low paying wages?
It was if the author knew it herself, but is afraid to make the stand in the book for fear of offending the ski bums she loves. You are not doing them a favor.
I particularly took offense to the immigrant chapter and to the white racist chapter. A first generation child of immigrants, my mother had to wait 10 years to be with her father because of the war. Legally that is. Her father worked in the stockyards of Chicago. My father worked at 10, having to support the family because his father became injured at the same stockyards. We all got educations because it's the American dream, a dream for their children of these legal immigrants. The same might hold true for the immigrants in the kitchens of the restaurants in ski town.
And please, another left talking point that felt disingenuous was the racism - no, no, no there is not systemic racism in ski towns. Just as there is not systemic racism against whites in the NBA. Even Oprah had to take a hike in the redwoods to draw attention to the lack of black people in nature. I seriously do not think redwood trees are racist.
I do not understand why there wasn't more on Vail. She praises the CEO who has risen his stock prices but barely acknowledges it could be up to him and Vail to do everything she says is needed- affordable housing, better wages, etc.

[Mikaela · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know what book I'm getting my dad for Christmas!

[Mia Vinding · Rating 4 out of 5]

Super interesting and well-researched on the history of skiing and ski mountains in the U.S.! Really compelling conversation about wealth and the idealism of ski towns

[Chris · Rating 3 out of 5]

Between climate change and corporate greed ski towns are morphing into playgrounds for the very rich and forcing out ski bums, Warren Miller wannabes, and the working class who can’t afford to live where they work for such low wages. Aspen, Jackson Hole, Vail, Squaw Valley to name a few. Just an interesting commentary on the history of skiing in the USA which exploded thanks to 10th Mountain Division veterans after World War II and was then eclipsed a generation later by corporations with MBA’s. Skiing is a duopoly with two companies trying to seize or recruit the independent resorts. Be in the big two or be left behind. Lift tickets for a day on the slopes have transitioned to vacations.

Discussion on the cost of the sports as well as the psychology of risk taking behavior and the social problems that manifest from alcohol and drug excess. It’s a white sport and one of privilege too. Not many people can afford it now either. Suicide rates are higher in mountain towns. Risk rises with altitude not to mention all the other factors.

I live in a mountain town at 6,900 feet and the snow is becoming scarcer. Our resort is the southernmost ski resort in the USA. We’re not totally dependent on skiing as we have horse racing too. This wasn’t a rant. It was more of a lamentation on change and growing up.

[Janna Dorman · Rating 3 out of 5]

A deep dive into ski bum culture. But it also explores how capitalism, climate change, class, race, and mental health intersect with skiing. I learned a ton and it was fun to read while I was staying in Colorado. Sometimes, the author’s overly flowery or nostalgic language got to be a bit much. If you’re interested in skiing at all, this is a good one to read.

[Connor Wilson · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5/5 Cool summary of the history of skiing and the ways the sport and the culture around it has evolved over the decades. Not really my typa book but it was cool seeing the effects of the early days of skiing in today’s culture.

[Ella Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lived my dream life through this book.
In depth conversations with locals in ski towns across America. The meaning of being a “ski bum”, the past, present, and future of the ski industry, and the emotional and physical experiences when skiing.

[Liam Bohannon · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was incredible. Hansman did an incredible job of talking through all things skiing related, from how it makes us feel to the many issues it carries with it. For me, it felt like she put words to a lot of things I’ve had in the the back of mind, and expanded upon them. This is a must read for all skiers/boarders!

[Paul Shortell · Rating 1 out of 5]

Will it register if I give zero stars? Powder Days? That title grossly misrepresents this book, more aptly it would be titled Debbie Downer name drops and projects the problems of the world into skiing. The false marketing on the book jacket tells us that we are going on an exhilarating ski journey filled with stories about the life of the ski bum and that "along the way" she discusses the problematic elements in skiing. I'd say that's backwards, the book is mainly about the problems that the author injects into skiing with little or no good ski adventure stories. We only visit a couple of ski areas, and the ski bum story is the same in every town: some people decide to ski every day, get really good at it and insulate themselves from the rest of us average skiers by living on peanut butter and PBRs. Here's a spoiler, skiing is expensive, who knew? And really you'd better get out there now because soon there won't be any snow anyway, cause, you know, global warming, er climate change. I'd rather ski pure ice on a rainy New England hill than revisit this book. Where do I get my refund?

[Devon Chapman · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’d give it a 3.6, it’s a sloppy love letter to skiing and it took me a while to follow her process. She talks about skiing’s place in the economy, climate, politics, and just life. There’s some great anecdotes and blunt realities. Skiing can make you feel like you’re on top of the world but there can be so much more at play.

[Andie Keith · Rating 4 out of 5]

Topic = 5 stars
Writing = 4.5 stars
Editing = 3 stars
Paper Quality (yes, it matters) = 1 star
Such a great book, just wish more care went into the editing process and quality of production.

[Leticia · Rating 1 out of 5]

More political than what I prefer

[Amanda Benton · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was good, but I didn’t want to keep actively reading it hence the 3 stars. The end chapters were very insightful and of interest to me and where things picked up.

[Meredith Chandler · Rating 1 out of 5]

Spoiler alert (but not really): Climate change is making far less snow, and big companies are buying up most of the mountains which some people don’t like. There, I saved you 260 pages.

[Cheryl · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’ve always felt clearer in motion…chasing a conflagration of all the things I wanted to feel: the rip of gravity, independence, and interdependence, the adrenaline that comes from risk. Skiing, at its simplest, is the feeling of slipping past gravity. Skiers chase snow and freedom and wildness, at the expense of a lot of other things.

More than half of regular skiers earn annual incomes of over $100,000, and eighty-seven percent of them are white.

Snow is alchemy, the exact right mix of cold, water, and air. You can feel the difference of man-made—the stiffness and the catch—and the unbroken crystals of newly fallen fresh. Snow is sound, too, the creaky stick of cold storms, the ball-bearings swish of slush corn or the crackle of rime ice. That thing about the thousand words for snow is right.

I read this book to try to understand skiing and skiers better and hoping for some descriptions of snow from someone who knows it intimately. The book is incredibly depressing, so know that going in. The author hit everything though, from sexism, racism, elitism, death, suicide, addiction, to capitalism and environmentalism, and there is not one area where skiing made it better. Not one. So nothing surprised me, but gave me greater depth to some of the impressions I have gained over my 20 years living in Denver and knowing a lot of skiers and some ski bums more peripherally, like a photographer on instagram or friends of friends.

I can’t remember what I thought about skiing before moving here, but I do remember being surprised at how few skiers hike or spend time in the mountains outside of skiing. For them, it is the dopamine rush, and the partying, and the idea they are escaping the grind, the 9-5 life. But skiing is as close to flying you can get, even more than bicycling, so I do understand and have compassion for them. I don’t know how to help them, though. It is an addiction and the addict has to want to change before we can even try.

So overall, a really clear eyed look that may get the author shunned from the community, it was that honest. There were about 5 interesting descriptions of places I will never truly be, and I am fine with it, a back bowl with a lip and sheer drop off. It is cheating death. I have been sobered this year by a couple and their dog who died snowshoeing by avalanche at a place I have been to, and just last winter, I was less than a mile away from where they died, on snowshoes, debating the angles of the hills and my dog’s exuberant desire to run a little, knowing it could trigger an avalanche. I was careful, only went a little ways, and survived. So many of us do survive, but that hit too close to home, and in fact, they died along a summer hiking route I love, and I think I know exactly where. So we all cheat and tempt death in small and big ways, but I think the dopamine rush is the difference; I might get some hits along a gorgeous hike but not from danger or speed, from beauty and mindfulness and breathing deeply and that could be the difference.

When Ivan said he could get me a job in Colorado, where all I would really have to do was ski every day, my life pivoted toward a particular grimy dream. I don’t believe in God or fate, but some tangled part of me got sucked into a modern manifestation of the frontier fantasy, problematic as it might be. I latched on to the idea that if I went west I would be braver and truer and more exciting. I wanted an adventure I could call my own, and a way to grow up with the country. A path that feels hard to find now that so much is commodified and mapped. I just needed someone to tell me it could be real. 1893, historian Frederick Jackson Turner made a speech about the frontier myth, and what he called Westering, shaped by Horace Greeley’s credo of “Go west, young man,” and of growing up with the country—an expression he borrowed from writer John Babsone Lane Soule. Turner said American identity was directly based in the exploration of the Wild West, and that it was a citizen’s duty to go forth, explore, and claim. That’s a white, colonialist construct that erases Native American history, and it’s thankfully fallen out of favor….There’s a jingoistic reason why I still say “back East,” and I know I’m not the only one.

Ski resorts grappled with a conflicting tension to feel both adventurous and safe, a dichotomy that still exists today. Resorts try to preserve some of their mountain ruggedness, but they also have to manage risk. Ski mountains are carefully manicured to feel wild.

I can feel the hum of devotion, but I know that it takes a lot of life geometry to get there.

One of the women tells me it feels like dancing to her, this relationship with the mountains, moving downhill, finding the soft spots and the curves. She says she’s searching to fill some kind of emptiness when everything else feels commercialized and too close. Being here lets her be wild and in her body.

Psychologists say that the best way to deal with climate grief is to go to the places that restore you, to remind yourself of the tenacity of our connection to land. But that’s extra painful when those spots that are supposed to sustain you can’t hold snow anymore. Temperature-wise, Aspen could be Amarillo by the end of the century if warming continues as it has.

[Caroline Cook · Rating 3 out of 5]

Being from Virginia I didn’t have the privilege of growing up skiing. I didn’t even learn to clip into skis until I was 25, yet somehow 2 years later I’d find myself moving to Colorado with less than 10 days under my belt. Moving west was a semi sporadic decision fueled by the hope of discovering something new and living a life with more adventure. I think that’s why I enjoyed so much of this book. It’s never going to be about being the best (I certainly never will be); it’s about feeling a connection to the mountains.

This book should be required reading for every Colorado transplant. I benefit almost every weekend from the industry Hansman spends the majority of the book thoughtfully critiquing, and I agree with her every step of the way. She isn’t afraid to say the things no one really wants to say; that the economics are highly problematic when the people keeping the place running can’t afford to live (or find a place to live!!), that skiing culture predominantly caters to white rich men, that the environmental impacts of large resorts are contributing to shrinking seasons (will we see a deep winter in 20 yrs??), and that there is a very real mental health crisis pervasive in mountain towns. These are discussions that need to occur regularly both within the communities that live in these places, as well as with the millions of people that visit them.

The mental health discussion in the final section of the book was the most fascinating for me. There is isolation that comes with having to constantly operate under the bravado of every day is the “best day ever,” even when it’s not. Learning that the Rockies are called the “suicide belt” and that the rates in ski towns are astronomically high compared to the national average (Aspen alone has 3x the national average) … I had to pause at certain points in the book because the stories hit too close to a past version of myself. I’ve thought plenty of times of what it could look like to make the move from front range to further out west. I appreciated Hansman’s efforts towards normalizing the idea that life in the mountains isn’t ideal all the time, and it’s certainly not for everyone - and that’s okay.

In summary this book is a super useful tool for anyone who is even remotely interested in skiing. I felt the writing was far too nostalgic at times (some of the anecdotes about her past life got tiresome eventually), and while she definitely says the hard things, there aren’t any real conclusions presented to these issues existing in the sport so it fell a little flat for me with where to go from here. 3/5!

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Perhaps 3 stars except that I love skiing?

I struggled a bit with the start of this book - her descriptions of “why be a ski bum” didn’t resonate with me, and the name dropping of various skiers went over my head.

The best parts of this book were 1.) The history of how skiing came to be in the US, starting with the 10th Mountain Division, and 2.) The ways in which the sport are becoming increasingly unequal, and the inequality that persists in every ski town (e.g., “everyone either has a second home, or a second job”). The latter resonated in part because of recent discussions with friends on Ikon / Epic resort consolidation, and the absurd price increases at places like Crystal (which quite frankly, make me wonder how anyone would learn to ski these days).

She argues that a large part of this is due to a “greater upper bound,” namely, the rich of Silicon Valley etc., who can make their money elsewhere but live in the community, a place already rife with elitism / wealth, pushing prices beyond what most Americans, not to mention ski bums or local workers, could pay for. The other factor, particularly in places like Aspen, are the literally richest of the rich (Kochs, Wrigleys etc.), who buy second homes (which come with significant tax benefits) who further push market mechanisms outside of their normal (e.g., In Aspen, the top 1% make 233x what the bottom 99% make - highest income disparity of any county the country.)

There then is also, she argues, the same phenomenon that’s happening in other “desirable superstar cities” in the US - Seattle & SF - wage flatness, wealth consolidation, governmental austerity and increased cost of livings.

Clearly, I would have liked more on this, as well as what the mega-resorts / consolidation mean for the future of skiing. This was not really her agenda (she focused on the future of ski bums, as a former one herself), but it was enough to keep me interested.

Other aspects that were touched on from a higher level (I also wanted more on this) - were the lack of diversity (go NBS), and how climate change is likely to impact the industry (hint: significantly, plus, climate change as the “great inequalizer,” which will likely contribute to more of the above).

[Ri Ganey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Refreshingly honest and easy to read. It’s hard to come by literature and media that touches on so many unspoken topics in ski towns and the outdoor industry like this does. I was left wondering a few times if Heather had more to say on topics then she let on mostly just on how succinct or abrupt the dialogue on it came to an end. Exceptionally grateful to have a book that balances the magic and strife of living in a ski town and that names the layers of privilege and excess consumption where they lie. Her words give permanence and tangibility to sentiments that can feel too uncomfortable to talk about and that’s priceless.

[Erin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Clearly author Heather Hansman is a talented writer. She captured my attention immediately not only with the content (skiing hooks me every time), but the way she articulated the transcendent, multi-sensory ski experience and encapsulates that in words.

The book addresses the dark side of skiing and the industry, some of which is necessary to draw our attention to current and future critical issues (e.g., shorter winters due to climate change, inequitable economies of ski towns). However, when spending free time reading about this topic, my desire is to consume lighter, airier, more carefree content. I rated this lower due to the distracting and unnecessary, highly politicized detour mid-book with clear biases that detracted from the actual content and the joy of skiing.

[Evan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Recommended by random hiker guy I met in Glacier, was excited to read and the book definitely did not disappoint. Initially was looking forward to what I would learn by reading, and for sure learned a good amount, but I think what really got me was the emotional side of this book. I was surprised by how deeply this book touched me, and hit not only on many of the things I care about, but also the feelings, including joys, fears, and confusions, I often feel myself. Nice to know there’s someone out there who feels, and has felt, the same way I do in the throes of seasonal/unstable work, repeatedly being asked “when will you grow up/get a real job,” and a seemingly omnipresent existential crisis :)

Overall would definitely recommend to anyone, especially those interested in getting some insight into ski culture and how it has changed and continues to change