In December 2023, @geraldmarc reached out to write “I think you could have a future in books.” I flew to New York, met the team, and started the part of my life where I could say “I have an agent” which, while awesome, I’m still not quite comfortable saying. Do kids from the Adirondacks have such things? I am getting used to it.
In July, Marc and I came to an agreement with @clarksonpotter and @penguinrandomhouse for a coffee table ski book to be released in October 2027.
I am pulling no punches for this one. Writing about skiing was first a hobby, then an escape, and, next month turning 40, a twenty-year career. I have thousands of interviews over the last two decades, comfort in working with the best photographers on the planet, and I am sure there will be a few surprises along the way.
My plan is to keep you all updated via the Mountain Gazette newsletter where in the coming months I’ll provide the type of transparency for the book our tens of thousands of readers have grown used to with the magazine.
Above all, I am grateful to those who’ve helped along the way. From my lifelong friends at @westmountain to @skitheeast , @powdermagazine , @vice , @theskijournal , and our entire team at @mountaingazette , you don’t get to where I am today alone.
Head to the link in the bio, sign up for the newsletter, and stay tuned. Let’s take this lap together.
Every time I make one of these magazine posts it’s usually the beginning of your journey with the new issue and the end of mine. I am glad Mountain Gazette 205 is out in the world. How about that Sibley opener? For the 60th anniversary year of Mountain Gazette I knew I didn’t want to look back for the “wow we were so rad” editorial. That’s what the anthology book was for. So I asked George to contemplate what it means to be old in a mountain town. The art for his piece is from an artist I met at an art show four years ago. At 84 George Sibley has done the impossible, going viral with a print-only piece. You just can’t ignore his prose.
There is much I’m proud of for this issue, but above all it’s that I received a few comments that this is the issue that proved we’re “not just a ski magazine.” Jokes on them. There’s more skiers in this issue writing, shooting, and making art than any one we’ve done before. Maybe it’s time to reconsider what sort of media we expect from skiers. I’ve always believed we’re a talented bunch.
This issue was always meant to be @chloekeiliaweir ’s debut. Unfortunately her father passed during the making of it. Incredibly, Chloe offered to memorialize her dad in one of the more touching editorial assignments I’ve had the privilege to work on. Thanks Chloe for sharing the power of a daughter’s love with our readers. And don’t miss her Point Reyes piece with @cwarzel . That’s the kind of story MG was made to cover.
Finally, I want to recognize this issue is beautiful in part to our new collaboration with @greigscott1977 and his team at @thelogicalchoicestudio . Mountain Gazette should, at its best, serve as a conduit between artist and reader. TLC helped us nail the color. It wasn’t easy going, but I’m sure it’ll be smoother next time. I intend to keep working with them.
The people who make this magazine alongside me come from all walks of life. This issue feels like a true reflection of just how incredibly diverse outdoor culture can be. That diversity, that contrast, is the best. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to do this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a fall issue to start thinking about and a book project to finish.
Book update: “A bunch of ‘oh-no’s. A collection of ‘WOW’s. That’s the Blizzard of AAHHH’s!”
“How’s your book going?” It’s going well. These three legends hopped on a Zoom for an hour and half to go through the good, the bad, and the ugly of ski culture and all its nooks and crannies. No punches were pulled.
We had a lot of laughs and Plake swears he remembers skiing with me as a 13 year old at West Mountain. You know what? I believe him. You should believe Glen Plake, too.
First photo by @benedictphoto
I want to see the ocean every now and then.
In the midst of working on a ski book (which is incredibly fun. 10/10 would recommend) I needed to take a mental vacation. Fortunately the Bay is right down the hill and the our team was in town. My son caught a game ball. The Mets loss spectacularly. The Great Highway lived up to its name.
You’re great, San Francisco. See ya again sometime.
Did you ever see 100” of snow appear then disappear in a week? I have. I also have a title for my upcoming book. I can’t share that now but I can show you what it looks like when I’m not working with screens.
Taking a moment to be grateful on this Sunday evening for this community we get to call home.
There is something special about holding a piece of history in your hands. For Mountain Gazette, inside this book is 60 years of storytelling reflecting the consistent and changing nature of mountain towns across the world. History doesn’t repeat. It echoes. Curating and editing this book has meant a lot to me. In some ways it’s the end of the first chapter of this revival and the beginning of a new chapter entirely.
This anthology brought joy into my life working alongside the writers, their families, and our team at MG. My name isn’t on the cover, because I didn’t make it alone. We all had a part in bringing this book to life. I’m glad it’s out of my hands now and heading to yours.
@leecohen_pics and I could shoot the breeze all day. We did last week when I dropped-by his house to go through his submission for my upcoming ski book.
Maybe the best part of working on this project has been connecting and reconnecting with old friends like Lee over coffee and film photographs. The more time I put into my debut book the more I feel like a small part of one collective ski culture. That’s my update for now. Ski season began last Friday. More to come.
Easily my favorite cover of Mountain Gazette. This one goes out to all the hardcore skiers and riders getting after it in the Northeast. We see you. Thank you @davetrumporephoto and @brookscurran for this photograph.
I’m ready to ski.
Today I turn 40, so I guess for this stupid little app I’ll look back, but not for me, but for the little kid in this photograph. That kid was brought home to a single wide mobile home. In my family we don’t call them trailers because 1) they don’t have hitches and 2) low-income folks deserve dignity.
There is dignity in a roof over your head. Dad taught me that. He also showed hard work and integrity are the keys to anything of value. Dad is approaching 70 and still loves a shovel in his hands. It’s important to have purpose in your profession.
There is always hope and the ability to make little moments romantic, special, and wonderful. Mom taught me that and a fondness for good books, magazines, and loyalty.
I spent the last few years trying to make sense of how I got to be so damn lucky. That is sort of what therapy is for, I guess. Dark shit, too, but we can save that for another time. Maybe a book, but don’t you think a ski bum book would be better? Me, too. So did the people at Penguin Random House.
I cannot write this and tell you I have it all figured out, that I alone know how to make a magazine come back to life, or that I have not made a bunch of stupid mistakes along the way. What I can say is I attempt to own my actions pretty radically, apologize, and forgive myself and others. I am trying to move on and accept all of the shit that makes up all of the shit that makes us who we are. Or in other words, I am attempting to be present right now, in the moment, with the people I admire and love. And to be frank with you it’s working out pretty great. If we’ve shared a moment or more together these last few years, please know that it was intentional. I am the sum of my family, colleagues, and friends. And that alone makes me a lucky man. Most of all I love being a husband and a dad. And a skier, of course.
Perhaps this all a little too vulnerable for an app that’s not going to know how to algorithmically exploit this post. Thanks for indulging me with your attention. If I have one piece of advice that the last 40 years have taught me, it’s that your attention is the most valuable currency in the world. Use it wisely.
See you soon. -Mike
