I’m just going to quietly slip this one into the deck, walk away, and hope nobody notices. The family ski vacation for the 2025-2026 season took a bit of an unexpected turn. Tahoe was out and that was okay… with everyone except for dad. So with a little different set of schedule constraints as a solo skier (weekdays and weekends all mean I’m taking vacation), I cast a wide net and looked for the right combination of snow and cheap flights.

Enter Whistler. Wow. What a trip. Never been and can’t wait to go back and bring my favorite family of skiers. After a minor hiccup in rental car land, I settled into my place at the base of the Blackcomb Gondola.

Each day was the same: breakfast in the Airbnb, chuck a few hard rolls with salami and cheese in the bag, then hit the road for as many vertical feet my legs could take for the day.

When I couldn’t move another foot (or the lifts started closing), it was back to the room for a stretch then into the hot tub with an Old Fashioned in hand. Three days of hard skiing netted me 81,100 vertical feet and 77.96 miles of snow. Conditions were mixed but between Whistler Bowl, Symphony, and all that was hiding off piste on the Blackcomb Glacier, I manged just fine.

And the crowds? Nowhere to be found.

I can get used to this kind of stuff.