People always ask me the same question:
“Do you get lonely skiing by yourself all the time?”
And the answer is no. Never!
Do I get lonely travelling alone? Sure. Driving for hours, eating dinner by myself, editing videos and figuring out where the hell I’m going to sleep can get lonely. But skiing? That’s different. When I’m skiing, I’m more present than I am doing almost anything else in my life. I’m thinking about the next turn, feeling the snow under my feet and trying to squeeze every ounce of fun out of the mountain. There isn’t much room left to feel lonely. I recently saw a video suggesting solo skiing was broken. And my immediate reaction was, “That’s a no from me, dawg.” (Shoutout Randy Jackson). To me, skiing alone is one of the most beautiful feelings in the world. There’s something pretty special about loving a sport so much that you’ll happily drive three hours to spend an entire day doing it by yourself. Don’t get me wrong. I love skiing with the homies and my family. When you find a crew with the same pace, style, flow and attitude, it absolutely elevates the day. The right friends make good skiing even better. But finding that crew takes time. And even when you find them, they probably can’t ski every single day you want to. I’d say I ski alone about 85% of the time. That’s a lot of solo days for a dude who skis full time. I’m not just tolerating those days until someone agrees to hang out with me. I genuinely love them.
Here are 15 reasons why.
It’s You vs. You
Skiing is a funny sport. You can head up with ten friends, but when you drop into a run, you’re still the one making the turns. Nobody can balance for you. Nobody can convince your legs to stop burning. And nobody can ski a line on your behalf, although that would be a handy service after lunch. On a solo day, I find it easier to focus on my own skiing. I’m not comparing myself to the fastest guy in the group or trying to impress anyone. I can work on something, repeat a run or just enjoy a turn that felt ridiculously good. The goal doesn’t have to be skiing something bigger. Sometimes it’s simply skiing something better.
You Pick Every Run
Want another lap of that bowl? Go for it. Want to spend the morning on bumps? Have at it. Want to ski the same groomer five times because the snow is perfect? Nobody’s filing a complaint. Group skiing involves compromise. That’s fine, but sometimes your idea of a perfect run and your buddy’s idea of a perfect run are on opposite sides of the mountain. When I’m alone, I can follow whatever looks fun without holding a committee meeting at every junction. Your day. Your runs. Your weird obsession with one particular patch of snow.
You Set the Pace
Some days I want to ski until my legs stop cooperating. Other days I want a slower morning, a proper lunch and time to soak up the views. Skiing solo lets me do both. There’s no waiting around when I’m feeling energetic, and no guilt when I need a break. If I’m cold, tired or just not feeling it, I can call it a day without convincing anyone else. Freedom also includes the freedom to stop. You don’t have to turn every solo day into a personal endurance event.
The Singles Line Is a Beautiful Thing
There are few things more satisfying than arriving at a busy lift and spotting a singles line that’s actually moving. It doesn’t always save time, but when it does, it feels like the mountain has rewarded you for being unable to organize your friends. You fill an empty seat, meet whoever’s riding up and head off for another lap. Simple. More skiing, less standing around watching the person in front of you attempt to eat a frozen granola bar.
You Meet New People
Skiing alone doesn’t mean avoiding everyone. I often find it easier to chat with people when I’m solo. A chairlift conversation can turn into a few laps, a useful tip or running into someone again later in the season. And skiing is a pretty easy conversation starter. You’re both wearing ridiculous boots and paying money to slide down frozen water. You’ve already got something niche in common. Sometimes I meet new people. Sometimes I bump into old friends. Sometimes I enjoy a quiet chair ride and stare at the mountains. All three are excellent options.
You Learn the Mountain Better
This is a lot like being the passenger in a car. Someone drives you somewhere, you have an awesome time, and later you realize you have absolutely no idea how to get back there. Following a friend or a local around a mountain is a blessing. But if I spend the whole day staring at their jacket, I don’t always remember which lift, traverse or turn got us to the good stuff. When I navigate for myself, I pay attention. I notice landmarks, read the trail map and connect different areas in my head. A stash I find myself tends to stick in my memory much better than one I blindly followed someone into.
You Learn to Make Your Own Decisions
Following someone can be easy. They choose the route, set the speed and drop in first. You just try to keep up. On a solo day, I have to think for myself. Where does this run go? Can I see the exit? What’s the snow doing? Is this a sensible choice today, or am I getting distracted by how good it looks? That habit matters even when I’m back with friends. Someone else being confident doesn’t automatically make a decision good.
You Find Your Flow
This might be my favourite part. You get into a rhythm. Ski, lift, ski, lift. You know what you want to do next, and the whole day starts flowing without much effort. On the run, it’s the same feeling. I’m focused on my own turns instead of checking where everyone else is or wondering if we’re stopping at the next roll. There are moments when the outside noise disappears and all I’m thinking about is skiing. That’s why the loneliness question always feels strange to me. In those moments, I’m not wishing somebody else was there. I’m completely absorbed in being there myself.
You Build Your Own Style
Skiing with better skiers can teach you a ton. But I also think there’s value in figuring out what you actually enjoy, without copying whoever you happen to be following. Maybe you love short turns. Maybe you like playful little side hits. Maybe a clean carve makes you happier than a steep chute ever will. Solo days give you space to explore that. You don’t have to make your skiing look like someone else’s to have an awesome time. Find the parts that make you grin and do more of them.
You Feel the Consequences More Clearly
Being alone makes me more aware of what could happen if something goes wrong. That doesn’t make me invincible or automatically turn me into a better decision-maker. But it does give me a reason to stop and ask harder questions. If I fall here, where do I end up? If I get hurt, will somebody see me? Am I choosing this because it makes sense, or because I’ve convinced myself I need to send it. Respecting the mountain sometimes means choosing another run. The mountains don’t care how big you think your balls are.
You Own Your Mistakes
Picked the wrong lift? That was you. Missed the turn? Also you. Skied straight past the good snow and ended up on a sheet of regret? Congratulations. Full credit. When I’m alone, there’s nobody else to blame for my decisions. That can be annoying, but it also makes the lesson pretty memorable. I can think about what went wrong and change something on the next lap, whether that’s the route, my technique or the decision to keep skiing when I was already cooked. The important part is learning from manageable mistakes, rather than being awarded a yard sale to learn a lesson.
You Pay More Attention to the Snow
When I’m choosing my own runs, I tend to notice the snow more. One slope is scraped off. Another is still soft. A sheltered section feels completely different from the exposed pitch above it. Instead of blindly repeating whatever the group wants to ski, I can follow those clues and adjust the day. It becomes a little puzzle: where’s the best skiing right now? You won’t always get it right.
You Learn to Trust Yourself
There’s something satisfying about navigating a mountain, making your own choices and having an awesome day without needing someone else to lead it. That confidence builds over time. For me, trusting myself also means listening when something feels wrong. I don’t have to ski a run just because I rode the lift up to it. I can change the plan, ask patrol a question or head somewhere more comfortable. Being independent includes knowing when you need help. There’s no prize for confidently getting yourself into a stupid situation, although I am pretty talented at getting into those.
You Ski More
This is probably the biggest reason of all. As you get older, lining up everyone’s schedules becomes harder. Your friends have work, kids, commitments and apparently interests that don’t involve checking snowfall totals at 5 a.m. If I waited for a friend every time I wanted to ski, I’d miss a ridiculous number of days. Some of those days would be powder days. Others would be ordinary days that turned out to be way more fun than expected. Learning to enjoy skiing alone means someone else’s calendar doesn’t decide your entire season. If you love making turns, that’s a pretty big deal.
Freedom
All of this comes back to freedom. You choose when to arrive, where to ski, how hard to go and when to leave. You can spend the day exploring or lap something familiar until your legs turn into moms spaghetti.There’s no pressure to turn it into anyone else’s idea of a perfect ski day.For me, that freedom is a huge part of why I love the sport. I can head to the mountain by myself and know there’s a very good chance I’m about to have a fantastic time. That’s a pretty beautiful thing to have in your life.
But Yes, Solo Skiing Is Dangerous
The right crew absolutely elevates shit. Friends make you laugh, share the excitement and sometimes help you ski better. It’s fun celebrating a great run with someone who understands exactly why you’re so fired up. And when something goes wrong, having a capable partner nearby can matter a whole lot more than having someone to high-five.
Good decisions can reduce risk, but skiing alone isn’t only as dangerous as you decide to make it. Falls, changing conditions and other hazards don’t always give you a choice. Tree wells and deep snow deserve particular respect. On those deep tree skiing days, ski or ride with a partner and stay in visual contact. Meeting at the bottom isn’t the same thing as staying together, and skiing beneath a lift doesn’t guarantee somebody will spot you or reach you in time.If the day involves deep powder or terrain where a partner is important, I’ll link up with a friend or someone I meet and actually ski together. Otherwise, the plan needs to change. Missing one tempting line is a lot better than assuming strangers will rescue me. There’s also a big difference between arriving at a resort alone to ski open, patrolled runs and heading alone into the backcountry. The freedom I’m talking about isn’t a reason to ignore closures, skip preparation or turn every day into a test of what I can get away with. Then mountains always win.
Alone on the Mountain, Lonely After Skiing?
I don’t want to pretend every part of a solo ski trip is amazing. A long drive can feel lonely. So can dinner after a great day, when you’d love to sit across from somebody and relive the best runs. I feel those things too. But I also get so excited about the next ski adventure that it often takes over. And filming adds another layer: I’m talking to the camera, sharing what’s happening and taking you guys and gals along for the ride.Yes, it’s a slightly weird relationship to have with a camera. But I wake up feeling jazzed to share these adventures, and that’s pretty cool. The quiet parts of travelling alone and the feeling of skiing alone are two very different things for me.
Skiing Solo Is Something I’ll Always Love
For me, it’s a balance. I love skiing with friends. I love skiing with my family. And I love a day where the crew is perfectly in sync and everyone leaves absolutely buzzing. But I also love waking up, deciding to ski and going. No group chat negotiations required. Solo skiing gives me freedom, helps me pay attention and lets me spend more time doing something I love. It can make me a better and smarter skier when I use those days to practise, think and make sensible decisions.
So, do I get lonely skiing by myself?
No.
Sometimes I get lonely travelling. Sometimes I’d love company after the lifts close.
But when I’m making turns, I’m exactly where I want to be.
Just me and the mountain
Stay Spicy!
Watch This Post In Video Instead (It’s Better Than Reading): https://youtu.be/s5NBkMqf4E4?si=drx0Z72dsLnuuVRw
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