Traveling & Existing with the Certainty of Nothing

The week following the big tumble in Spain felt like one big fever dream. I chatted with new friends and old, I floated around Europe, and I attempted to sort through every existential thought that flew my way (there were a lot of them). 

Since the first comp went down so early in Baqueira, we were able to spend three more days at the hotel there which was huge. I was able to gather myself and let my body & my nervous system chill a bit after such a massive fall. Also at that point, I had no idea if I was going to continue on for the rest of the world tour season, so I wanted to meet/connect with at least a few people before I maybe lost my chance to do that. I got to know some pretty special people in those days which helped me put things into perspective (on like a life scale), which I’m very very grateful for. 

After that, we spent a night in Barcelona, then had a 10 hour train travel day to Chamonix. Luckily, I was with a group of magnificent humans who helped me carry the absurd amount of shit that a skier travelling for months at a time must lug around. We had 4 transfers which is absolutely hectic with ski gear, especially in a foreign country. I knew it wasn’t an easy task because everyone had their own luggage to worry about, but no one blinked an eye when it came to helping me out. I was slinged up and feeling useless (my least favorite feeling), but that group of people saved my ass that day- and they simply didn’t let me feel bad about it. 

Traveling light

Lily found the cutest, most ideal airbnb in Chamonix where we would post up for the next 4 days. I wasn’t able to ski yet so I didn’t get to explore the mountains how I wanted- but despite that, it was the perfect place to rest, heal, & sort through my existential dread. I found a gym that I walked to everyday which was lifesaving. Just being able to move my body and break a sweat helped me slow down the anxious thought flow and find some peace of mind. Movement brings clarity, and that has always reigned true for me.

Hadley Hammer, one of the kindest, most genuine people I’ve ever met, was currently living in Chamonix. She sent me a bunch of shoulder wellness recommendations in the area. I was able to get in with both a physio and a masseuse in that small window of time, which felt substantial in my journey to rapid-recovery (even though all medical professionals were telling me I absolutely should not do what I was planning on doing).

The French Alps are humbling in a way that’s difficult to articulate. Just being in the midst of mountains that massive is enough to immediately put your problems into perspective. Those mountains can catch our eyes and spark our creative flow, but they also can destroy us if we don’t respect them. Over the past few days I, I had replayed my fall in my head. Tumbling down a mountain with no control over my body had forced me to think about the consequences of being in such intense environments. It’s natural to desensitize the reality of what high level freeride skiing is when you’ve done it all your life, but after a fall like that, I realized it’s kind of fucking crazy.

But I digress.

So I walked through Chamonix & I stared at the jagged peaks that surrounded me- and I realized how tiny of a specimen I really was. And that whatever I was going through, couldn’t possibly matter that much if an earth like this was existing at the same time as me. 

It’s so easy to get caught up in this idea that people care what you’re doing- and don’t get me wrong, some people most definitely care- but nobody is as invested as you think they are. Each individual is living their own complex life and dealing with their own shit. When I was contemplating whether I should keep competing this season, I was so stressed that if I called it quits, I’d be disappointing everyone. I still think that’s a small part of the reason I decided to push through, but I can recognize now, that wouldn’t have been the case had I made a different call. Tyler Curle sent me a text after Spain that said “Just go with your gut. Only pressure you have is the pressure you put on yourself.” I think that a lot of athletes could use a reminder like that. 

Also, just simply being in the Alps, I couldn’t help but think about skiing and all its done for me. It’s allowed me to connect with mountains on this profound level. And even though those past few weeks had been extremely difficult, I saw parts of the world I never would have, I met & reconnected with a bunch of beautiful souls, and the tribulations of skiing forced me to learn more about myself & what I could endure. 

All this to say, those few days in Chamonix gave me the chance to reflect on life and skiing from a lens I’d never really explored before.  

I felt slightly more prepared to show up in Val Thorens after that fever dream of a week. So when I got there, I popped some advil, threw a brace on my shoulder and some skis on my feet, and tested the waters.