I love the sounds of skiing. I never ski with earphones and music, I’ve tried but it blocks out what turns out to be an essential part of the experience for me.

In the resort I like the squeaking of the wheels on the chairlift and the bell of a CAT ambling up the hill. I am a master of the seven-minute lift conversation and have met interesting people from around the world. Once on the slope, I wondered if a new buddy “who hasn’t really figured out how to turn yet” was going to run me down. I listened for him! I use the clank of my poles to gently let people know I’m gaining on them fast. I listen for the wild bird call my friends use to catch each other’s attention in line or when separated in thick trees. The unrestrained rebel yell coming out of that guy from Texas always makes me smile. The most endearing sound people make skiing is that laugh that spontaneously erupts out of everyone after an amazingly good run.

Outside resort boundaries I like the roar of my snowmobile almost as much as the quiet after it is turned off. The powerful sound of a helicopter makes my heart pump as much as actually skiing. Then there is that Star Wars laser effect sound my skins sometimes make when the snow is spring-like. I’ve seen the sound of ripping skins off the skis work like Pavlov’s Bell on certain dogs and people too. The satisfying thunk of sinking an ice ax makes me feel a bit more secure in insecure places, as does the biting noise of my crampons.

It’s the sounds of snow that I really respect and love. I need to hear if there is a warning “whoomph” or the distant rumble of an avalanche. The scratching of hardpack or scraping lets me know to exercise some caution. When the snow is good it makes the best sounds. Sometimes it’s the tinkling of that little bit of surface hoar on super dry, light fluff. The, there is the heavier sound of carving through corn.

My favorite noise, above all the other sounds of skiing and snow, is the almost inaudible poof, poof, poof of making turns through coastal powder. You can never hear that through headphones.

Cloudveil-sponsored Susan Medville is a museum curator for her “real job.” In her off time, she hucks cliffs and skis powder from Colorado to British Columbia.