Ski like a girl
To follow my previous post about skiing Mt. Barrille, I wanted to address something that came up while we were in the Ruth Amphitheater. The north face of Barrille is in pretty clear view of the Sheldon Chalet, and while we were skiing, a group of guides and clients were out for a walk on the glacier and able to capture some sweet footage of us ripping down Barrille. The next day, they stopped by our camp, airdropped us the footy, and gave us some beers. One of the clients in particular was very impressed by what we had accomplished, and it was awesome to share the stoke with him. All in all, a really rad interaction, and I am so grateful that someone captured those moments for us, and as always, grateful for the gift of free beer.
But that night as I was in the tent rewatching the footy, I watched the video with the sound on, and some of the dialogue just made me pause. The footage of me skiing was accompanied by comments like “Gotta take a video of this dude”, and “look at the track he’s leaving”. It was clear they had assumed I was a man. My first impulse was to brush it off, but the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. I wasn’t upset with the individuals who had taken the video per se, but more with the narrative we are immersed in that caused them to jump to that conclusion. It isn’t their fault that they presumed I was a man— historically, skiing and ski mountaineering are male dominated sports, and the movements that are working to broaden the scope of media representation of people other than white men in the outdoors are still on the rise. However, this interaction just really woke me up to the fact that ‘white man’ is still largely the default in outdoor sports— not everyone has curated their social media to spotlight women, BIPOC, and LGBTQ+ folks doing rad things outside.
Since this encounter, I’ve thought a lot about why the narrative that outdoor sports, specifically ski mountaineering, are male dominated. Obviously there is the media representation side of things, but I think another large part comes down to accessibility and privilege. Back country skiing and mountaineering are objectively expensive. How can people afford a back country setup, shovel, beacon, probe, crampons, avalanche education, and climbing gear when they are barely making ends meet? When you are spending over half of your paycheck on rent, and the rest on paying bills, groceries, and SURVIVING, the last thing on your mind is shelling out thousands of dollars for gear and education to recreate in the back country safely.
The fact that I have the bare minimum to back country ski and climb mountains speaks to my privilege, which I recognize. But even so, it has taken years to accumulate the gear I need, and until this season, I was touring on an extremely heavy setup with pair of frame bindings. I got frostbite on my left big toe on my first big hut trip in Alaska because I was touring with my alpine boots unbuckled since I couldn’t afford touring boots. The setup I have now is beautiful, but heavier than a typical skimo setup because I need my skis to double as resort and back country/ski mountaineering skis. I would like to start skiing bigger lines, but before I do that I would like further my avalanche education and get an avalanche airbag. The list goes on, but I can’t help but think: no wonder this sport is for the most part dominated by white men, they are the only ones who can afford to play in the back country without worrying about dying! (obviously this is a generalization, I know plenty of white men who also struggle with how expensive skiing and mountaineering are, but given the privilege that comes with falling into the white man demographic, things check out).
Anyways, rant aside, I started thinking about ways to change the narrative that skiing is a white man’s sport. Aside from joining the movement to create more space in media representation for marginalized folks in the outdoors, I feel a good step is to contribute towards making skiing more accessible for historically marginalized folks. With that in mind, my goal here is to eventually start producing art and selling prints, with a percentage of those sales going towards organizations (like Women of Winter) that offer scholarships that enable marginalized folks to get out into the back country safely. I have a lot to learn, and much to do, but this is me, doing the thing!