My ski life started one cold February morning, just after I had done my morning chores and headed off to school in an old Montana schoolhouse. As soon as we piled off the bus, a smiling teacher rounded us up and declared that we were loading back on the bus and heading up in the mountains to ski; the thrill of adventure rushed through me.

Yes, there I was; 7 years old in blue jeans, an old puffy jacket, floppy knit hat, cowboy boots and my workin’ gloves and I was going skiing.

The ride was a bouncy adventure through my own personal uncharted territory of Jackson Creek and up toward the Bridger Mountains. When we arrived, I gawked at the snow piles 10 feet high, breathed in the rich aroma of the cafeteria grill, and admired the squeaky ski boots of passersby – all rushing to hop onto the chair with one universal goal, getting to the top of that mountain.

The day wasn’t quite yet reminiscent of a scene from Teton Gravity Research; it was maybe more like the Warren Miller comedy clips, but it was perfect. In a nutshell, we started with some quick lessons, we froze, got snow everywhere, soaked our blue jeans, and we’re physically exhausted by the end of that most amazing winter’s day…and I was hooked.

At that moment the seed of passion for skiing took hold, and the allure of the ski life began to shape my future. On the bus ride home I got to dreaming, in my euphoric state, about some old wooden skis with cable bindings and leather boots my father had in the shed. As soon as I got home I went to that shed and dug those old ski’s out, I knocked the dust off, threw on about three pairs of wool socks – just so they’d stay on – and headed for the Absaroka foot hills in our backyard.

For the next six years my brother Garrett and I rode those skis around our Ranch in Paradise Valley. Yes, we were some kinda country skiers, not really cross country, not really back-country, maybe just fun country; and we spent as much time as we could tromping around the hills on the ranch and learning to make turns through the sagebrush on those floppy old 9 foot long skis…we were living the ski life.

As time passed we moved from the ranch   to Michigan. There’s that old saying; “If you love something, let it go…” Well, skiing was put on hold for a spell, but with my walls plastered with ski posters, my shelves filled with ski magazines, and my time spent pouring over ski videos; the passion only grew.

A few years later, free from the constraints of high school, I got a job at The Stable Ski shop in Saginaw, Michigan and I was reunited with the passion of my life, skiing. I had access to the northern Michigan ski resorts, some fresh gear and all access to the ice hills; the training began.

For three years I lived the Midwestern ski life; fitting the flatlanders with new skis and hitting the highway any chance I got for the 3-4 hour drive to the resorts up north. I worked those edges, hung out with the top ski industry reps, and started to hear the wistful ski stories about infamous resorts like Squaw Valley, Vail, Breckenridge, Telluride, Snowbird, and Jackson Hole.


When I moved out to Park City that following winter, I worked in restaurants on the mountain with two main goals; season ski pass and gas money to get there.

One of my first restaurant acquaintances was a quiet fellow named Mikey B. We hit it off right away through our passionate stories about mountain adventure and our friendship immediately grew. It wasn’t but a few snowy days gone by that Mikey and I were tweaking our gear, planning a fresh powder strategy, and gulping fine coffee; Mikey is all about the good coffee. We had an epic day on the mountain; ripping through the local’s stashes of Park City Mountain all day long.

One of the most powerful connections a human being can make are built on adventure. No longer are you tied to a person because of like interests alone, you are universally connected to a person who’s passion for life’s adventures matches your own.
Today another 10 years later, with my hometown of Livingston, Montana as my backdrop, I am introducing my four year old son to the ski life. Mikey B and many of our mountain partners are raising their families throughout the Wasatch Mountains of Salt Lake City, in the Boulder Mountains of Idaho, and in Washington’s Cascade Range. Even without being in proximity, or talking as much as we should, our connection holds strong. It is more than our adventures on the mountains or a day on the ski hill, it was and is a passion and a thread of life; the ski life.


Today, many of us mountain men and women have gotten a bit older and gained some of those other life’s responsibilities that we abhorred while we were the younger mountain addicts. Life back then was all about waking each day with but only one thing on our mind – fresh powder. But even today, the allure and passion of the ski life is not lost.

For me and many of you reading this story, our local areas of Bozeman, Livingston, and Big Sky, holds some of the most passionate and true mountain men and women you might find. These people have found a way to live life and pursue their passion for the mountains within the proximity of some of the world’s best skiing and mountaineering playgrounds one can find.

The ski life is not only a way of life, it is a way to find life.

I hope not to have bored you with this chronology of adventure, but I do hope I’ve stirred you to look at – or maybe a look into – your own connection to the ski life. If I may take any license to share a concept, I would say that the next time you go to the ski mountain, venture into the backcountry, visit a mountain lodge – if only to hear the crackle of the fire and soak in the atmosphere of the ski life – take a moment to just watch and feel. Let the vibe flow through you and succumb yourself to the envelopment of what it is that brought you there. The ski life is way beyond metal and plastic gear, grilled burgers, lodges, and ski lifts…it is a passion. It is a passion and deep flowing connection to millions of other souls who are feeling what you feel. It powers us to do more and dream beyond the everyday life. It may even bring us to realize what should be an everyday part of life – not time out of life to ski – but time out of skiing to do life?

Drink it up my friend, celebrate your passion, and go get some skiing. And, in every one of our ski life comrades we see and hear schussing down the mountain, let’s celebrate the passion and fuel for this way of life we’ve chosen: The Ski Life…I hope you have a great and long one!

Eric Schultz is an outdoor art and adventure photographer and founder of forthcoming online social community: The Ski Life. You can find out more at their Facebook.com/TheSkiLife page.