What Not to Say to a Local

Anyone who has ever been to a ski resort town knows that the local folk can be pretty darned friendly. Of course they are! They shred more than a hundred days a year and spend their days in the great outdoors. What’s not to smile about?

While the term “local” is debatable (Born and raised only? Lived here since the 90s? The 2000s?), people who have lived by the mountains for a while are usually pretty welcoming. When your town’s economy relies heavily on tourism, you kind of have to enjoy entertaining the visitors, or at least be able to tolerate it.

But even the friendliest of locals will give you a death-glare if you say the wrong thing in their presence. Ever helpful, I have prepared a list of things NOT to say to a local, unless you want to get blacklisted forever.

DO NOT ask where this photo was taken! R: Johnny Caulfield P: Brian Hockenstein

 

"How do I get to (insert legendary secret powder stash not found on any trail map)?"

Every mountain has their epic zones that are a little off the beaten track and don’t get tracked out by the second run on a pow day. But there’s a reason secret things are secret. If everybody knew about these secret powder zones, THERE WOULDN’T BE ANY POWDER LEFT.

And yes, while visitors want to experience the best snow possible (hint: a marketing campaign advertising a “powder stashes route” won’t show you actual powder stashes), you need to prove yourself a little before anyone will let you in on the secrets. Maybe if you’re REALLY lucky, you’ll meet a local in a good mood who is willing to show you around. But don’t ask, because they won’t tell you, and it will make them never want to tell you.

 

"Do you know who I am?"

No. They don’t know who you are. Here’s a hint: if you have to ask this, no one cares who you are. So when you are trying to get a table for you and your seven buddies on a Saturday night at 7:30 PM, or when you’re trying to convince the bouncer to let you into the club even though they’re at capacity and there’s a line for miles, don’t try to pull this card. It’s easy for visitors to get carried away while on vacation mode, and maybe name dropping works back home, but it ain’t going to fly here.

Kevin Sansalone is definitely considered a local at Whistler. P: Brian Hockenstein

 

"This mountain/run is fine, but ____ is way better."

Have you ever told a mother than her kid is alright, but you know other ones that are way more awesome? Yeah. Locals are a little overprotective of their mountain. Think about it: of all the mountains in the world, THIS is the one they picked. You’re not going to make any friends by putting their home sweet mountain down. You’re just going to end up looking like this guy — scroll down to the comment from "Michael from Canada". You’ll love it. My personal favourite is:

“In the morning you have to ride a lift over a massive amount of terrain which you will not ski until *maybe* the end of the day. At the end of the day we had to spend an hour to ski down this terrain which is a series of mediocre long, tiring, and crowded blue runs or sit on a gondola for 20 minutes to download – again WAITing!”

 

Magee is well on her way to calling this magical resort her home P: Brian Hockentein

“I’m a local”.

I once wrote an article about city girls versus local girls, and let's just say it didn’t make me any friends. One sweet commenter told me I couldn’t move to Whistler for a year and call myself a local. Touché. To be clear though, I never ACTUALLY called myself a local—I hope I’m not that dumb. I’m not a local, yet. Neither are you, seasonnaires. Neither are you, guy whose parents have a place up here and you come up on weekends.

 

"Aren’t your parents disappointed in you?"

Last year, I was manning a craft booth for the children of Whistler (can you think of a less offensive job?) when a grandmother flatly asked me the above question. She had asked me a few questions about living in Whistler, and she clearly did not approve of me quitting my big kid job in order to become a ski bum. No, mean grandma, my parents are not disappointed in me. But thank you for asking.

Sometimes it’s asked condescendingly (as above), other times it’s genuine curiosity that just comes out wrong, but visitors are often shocked to find out locals haven’t necessarily planned out their retirement and perhaps are living in, well, a shack when their peers from high school are driving their offspring to daycare. It’s not your life, so don’t you worry.

 

And there you have it.