Snow storms pummeled the Mountain West this past week, signaling the unofficial kickoff to the 2024-25 ski and snowboard season. A handful of resorts have opened in Colorado, including the mainstays of the early season: Arapahoe Basin and Wolf Creek Ski Area. Chairlifts are beginning to spin across the Rockies and beyond—, 18 ski areas have opened across the United States. The nascent ski season sparked an important debate within the ϳԹ editorial community: do you prefer opening day or closing day? Luckily, two editors who are both dedicated skiers are here to argue the point.
Fred Dreier: OK Adam, I’m envisioning the opening day scene at Arapahoe Basin. The temperature is in high-twenties Fahrenheit and the wind is howling. A long line of snowboarders and skiers stretches from the base of the Black Mountain Express lift halfway up High Noon. Everyone is frothing to get that first run. It’s so competitive to get first chair that some skiers have camped out for days under the lift. The crusty man-made snow crunches beneath every boot step. The roar of snow guns is deafening. How accurate is this depiction?
Adam Roy: Five years ago it would have been dead-on. This year I missed opening day, but I was there on day 2 and the snow was fantastic. Crowds were small—I think it helped that nearby Keystone Resort opened on the same weekend. In the past I would bring an audiobook with me on opening day because I spent so much time waiting in lift lines, but on day 2 this year I barely experienced any downtime.
Fred: OK, so I’m going to call our argument a draw regarding the 2024-25 opening day, since you technically weren’t there for it. But still, my general feeling on opening day is that the snow sucks, the lines are long, and it’s cold. How on earth is this better than the scene on closing day?
Adam: Hard disagree. For starters, the snow on opening day is usually twice as good as it is on closing day, and you’re half as likely to hit a rock. But skiing opening day is also an emotional experience. Here are my feelings as I ski opening day: It’s day one, you know that you’ve got the whole ski season ahead of you, and conditions are only going to get better. Meanwhile, on closing day, you’re looking at a solid five months with no turns. Another year in the books, another one of your precious few winters on Earth that’s just memories now. That’s heavy! At least for me.
Fred: I suppose we’re just going to have to disagree on whether or not the snow is better or worse on opening day versus closing day. And I hear you on the emotions that you feel in anticipation of another season. But my primary argument for closing day is vibes—I think the chill and carefree mood on closing day rules! Back in 2018 my wife and I hit closing day at Copper Mountain, and I want to set the scene for you. It was a bluebird sunny day and temperatures soared into the fifties. After an icy morning, the sunshine softened the snow in the afternoon, and we spent a few hours surfing the slush before our quads turned to jelly. It was so balmy that we ditched our jackets and just skied in short-sleeve shirts and vests. And here’s the real kicker–when we descended to the base area there was a concert going on. When we walked up to the stage we realized it was the Mighty Mighty Bosstones.
Adam: That sounds like a sweet day. Or at least that’s The Impression That I Get.
Fred: They were gray-haired dudes in their fifties kind of shimmy-dancing around. But I kid you not, they still kicked ass. And the whole scene immediately transported me back to 1996, and yes, I did start skanking.
Adam: Skanking is the kind of thing you can only do on closing day when you hit your mid-thirties—too much risk of blowing your ACL and ending your season early otherwise.
Fred: So back to our debate: how would you compare the vibe of opening day vs. closing day? I can tell you that on closing day, people are laid-back, slightly inebriated, and not at all concerned with the actual skiing. Like, nobody cares how many runs you did, whether or not you found good snow, or even if you actually made it onto a chairlift. The only thing anyone cares about is whether or not you’re having fun—skiing be-damned.
Adam: On opening day, people are ready to slay. They’re laying into their turns and hucking themselves off kickers onto landings that are straight ice. There is a party scene, for sure, but it’s different than on closing day. Nobody’s really committing to aprés that hard. Instead, the party’s on the slope, or in the lift line. While you’re waiting for first chair somebody’s always passing out bratwurst or donuts or swag or beers or whatever.
Fred: OK, my final argument in favor of closing day: your body. By April, your leg muscles and joints are already accustomed to skiing or boarding, so you can slog your way through the slush and not worry too much about tweaking your knee or being too sore the next day to go to work. The exception to this rule, of course, is injury caused by partying and/or excessive stoke, which I have witnessed. At the Copper Mountain closing, one of the pond-skim skiers got too rowdy and careened off of a jump and into the crowd. My guess is he was in a walking boot until the next season’s opening day.
Adam: That’s true—you gotta prep for opening day, man. In my opinion, that’s half the fun! For a few weeks prior, you hang out in your gym or garage or wherever doing squats and mountain climbers with a Warren Miller film on the TV. You’ve gotta psych yourself up to get your body ready. You get your gear together, wax the planks, maybe pile up the scrapings on your workbench and take a big snort of that beginning-of-season scent like you’re Al Pacino in Scarface. I love that anticipation. It’s like Christmas Eve.
Fred: Aha, so it sounds like a big part of your love of opening day is the entire process of getting stoked for ski season—the training, gear prep, and even the wait for that first chair. This whole process gets you amped to ski for the next few months. And when you arrive, you are ready to charge, to hit the slopes hard, and to start the season off with the emotional momentum that will prompt you to get up early, brave traffic, and drive up to the slopes again and again for the next few months. I get it now. Fans of opening day are looking for that oomph to carry you through a long season of ups and downs.
Still, I’m sticking with closing day, Adam. The older I get, the less I feel like I have to prove with how many days I ski, whether or not I got blower powder, or if I topped out on my vertical. I just want to have some laughs, drink a beer or two, and enjoy the sunshine. Thus, I’ll keep an eye out for you on closing day. I’ll save you a spot in front of whichever nineties band is playing.
Adam: I’ll make sure to bring my checkered suspenders.