…and the infamous 26 hour bus ride lined with coolers.

While answering emails this afternoon I came across one that particularly fed my nostalgic tendencies. The email came from a college-aged gentleman, eloquently written (surely in APA style) and proposed a request for a partnership to help his college ski club make their annual trip in December: to Telluride.

Reading his carefully chosen and extremely well presented proposal brought back memories of ski club drenched “academia.” …

Over 220 students show up at 5:15 a.m. sharp at a parking lot in the heartland of America (cornfield campus in Ohio.)

High fives paired with perfect shit-eating grins maintained the morale as each ski club member rolls in, beanies galore. The veterans have the drill down pat; endure the marathon drive, watch rolling hills turn to jagged peaks, rinse yourself of “bus butter” at the ski side condo and spend the next week of vacation skiing as much (or as little) as you’d like.

Kids are already wearing their most technical pieces, jockeying for status as they pick their seat partners, line the aisles of two coach buses with coolers, and cheer in unison to get the party started.

Destination: Steamboat Springs, Colo. Approximate travel time: 26 hours.

I still remember showing up that Saturday after finals, two weeks to go ‘til Christmas with a check for $450 dollars in hand. I had saved stipends sent from the padre for a package deal that promised transport, a four of five-day lift ticket and lodging in three-star condos a stones throw from the Gondola. Throw in a BYOB- no glass- and you’ve got a mobile ‘Spring Break!’ style party bus.

But, unlike the nearly nude revelers who spend their celebration and libation in a Holiday Inn on the beach, we bunch up our fleece mid-layers and cuddle up next to our bus partner. Flow with the group cycle, don’t break the seal too early, eat some quality trucker stop breakfast sandwiches along the way and you’ve handled the ultimate road-trip challenge like a champ.

Once at our wintry wonderful, we take over an entire complex of condos and decide to go grocery shopping to save money instead of using funds on eating out. For the freshman in the group, it is our first time grocery shopping with the end goal of filling a fridge to feed four faces. We ended up buying two frozen pizzas, a few bags of Doritos and store brand salsa. We also realize that lunches on ski hills can cost more than chemistry books, we pitch in for a loaf of bread and some peanut butter for economy purposes.

The next day is exhausting. After our morning on the Steamboat’s legendary powder, Kathryn, Hadley, Dean and I sprawl out in a booth to gobble burgers. (Note: I have little knowledge of the freeskiing movement at this point in my life.) Dean snickers “See those guys over there, that’s Tanner and J.P.!” I have no idea who he’s even talking about. He dared that he’d buy my burger if I offer to buy them pints of Fat Tire (remember fake ID’s?)

I smoothly asked the waitress to deliver the trendy brews and to make sure they know that the girl in pigtails and Nordic sweater sent ‘em. She winks and saunters over to the boys. A short exchange takes place and she returns to relay Tanner’s response: “Thanks, but I have to compete tomorrow. Besides, I’m not of age!” An almost a legendary story.

The atmosphere offered by joining a college ski club may be the closest a Midwestern kid can come to fully “living the dream” sans parents and family-style ski vacations. For me it was an inspiration in my decision to adopt a winter of ski-bum life shortly after graduation.

Once in the club, you have access (for a small fee - often only $25) to barbecues, tailgates and social events. They’re thrown year-round and you’re always on the invite list. Many clubs also come up with clever t-shirts- included in membership- to wear around campus and drum up participation.

This year, The University of Michigan’s ski club will be taking the long road to none other than our own cowboy town to ski what they’ll call “Jackson Hole Mountain Resort.” Let’s give them a warm welcome when they arrive.

I’ll be the first to congratulate any college kid with enough vision to take advantage of an affordable, ridiculously fun way to experience ski-town camaraderie and make some big mountain turns - the same turns that brought me to embrace a mountain living in the first place.

Carolyn Gorski fixes zippers for Cloudveil. This is her second post for The Mountain Culture. Her first described her time as a Lowe Alpine sponsored skier. This will be her first winter skiing The Jackson Hole Mountain Resort.