It was Christmas Day. If you were there, you would remember.

“I was recently informed by a friend that Paul Parker, a legend, innovator, and author in the world of Telemark skiing, passed away this past month. While I have only faint memories of him, I knew of his incredible athleticism and contributions to the sport. Searching through my library of ski books, I found his work. Darlene suggested to I turn to the chapter titled Christmas 1983, where Paul beautifully describes the joy and passion we all share for skiing—especially on a perfect powder day. His words capture the essence of why we love the mountains and the thrill of fresh snow. This passage is a reminder of how much he, Darlene, and all of us cherished those moments on the slopes.”

CHRISTMAS, 1983
“It was Christmas Day. If you were there, you would remember. It had snowed every day for the last forty days. That morning there were nineteen inches of new snow, rounding out the accumulated snowfall of the last thirty-six hours to thirty-two inches. And the road from Denver as well as the Denver airport were closed. We had the mountains to ourselves.
Christmas with no customers. How often does that happen? Not that I wished it; as a ski instructor, I needed the tourists to make a living. And the ski area had to stay alive. But if the snow’s there, you had better ski it because it won’t last long.
It looked as though the ski school and patrol would get along without us, so several of my old college buddies and I convened for a little Christmas celebration at the bottom of the upper lift. My best friend, Chuck, a ski patroller, had been trying to get a new part of the mountain open to the public. We had skied it numerous times in the past — the Peak, it was called — but it had been closed to all but the ski patrol and those few friends whom the patrol allowed to tag along quietly. But the next day it would be open to the public. Climbing it required a short hike from the top of the new lift. There was so much snow on top you had to clear out a spot to put your skis on. It went up
your nose when you bent over. I tightened my scarf around my mouth, thinking I’d need it to breathe. Darlene went first — after all, it was Christmas. It would be my turn next.
God, I hate that first turn, when everyone watches. Even after years of teaching I hate it. I always over-turn, over-compensate, over-something. Miraculously, I made it through the first two turns and realized what I was in for. I had never skied snow like this in Colorado — a Utah-deep dump of dry snow on steep terrain.
With every turn I had that wonderful gurgling sound of light snow pummeling my goggles. I leaned my torso precariously against the snow’s depth, exaggerating movements to get my slow-motion turns around. The deluge of snow quickly packed my goggles — I couldn’t see at all. But I didn’t want to raise a hand to clear them and break my rhythm. Darlene was happily squealing, so I blindly made my way toward the sound, arcing the tightest turns I could muster until I came to a stop.
Backcounty Magazine perfectly described his accomplishment to the Telemark skiing, “As Chouinard became Black Diamond Equipment, Parker transitioned onwards to Scarpa, imported by Black Diamond at the time, where he developed the first plastic telemark boot, the Scarpa Terminator. Combined with his development of dedicated telemark skis with TUA in 1985, Parker created a groundbreaking setup. Aside from Scarpa, TUA and Black Diamond Equipment, Parker left his fingerprints on brands like Asolo, Marmot, G3, Garmont, Movement Skis, Scott Sports and Patagonia.”
It is a wonderful article and a must read .

I leave this thought with all of you who cherish skiing and the outdoors: our days of perfect powder are numbered. As Paul so perfectly put it, ‘If you were there, you would remember.’ Sadly, fewer of us will have those ‘I was there’ moments as our climate changes. So let’s do everything we can to preserve these memories and protect the future of our winter. RIP Paul Parker