My family just returned from Ski Week (otherwise known as Winter Break for nonskiers) up in Tahoe where our two daughters (9 and 7) are members of the Sugar Bowl Ski Team. As many of you may know, California is suffering through a fourth straight year of drought. The temperatures were well above freezing at night and close to sixty degrees during the day. Not surprisingly, the snow is going fast, but, surprisingly, the skiing has been really good both on the groomers and off-piste. Bay Area skiers are staying away from Tahoe in droves and our friends who ski little or not at all keep asking us why we keep making the sometimes long and always monotonous drive up to Truckee so often, particularly with such apparently poor ski conditions.

As a somewhat contemplative sort of fellow, my time up at Sugar Bowl this past week caused me to reflect further on this question and the meta-question of why our family would want to live the lifestyle of a ski racing family. As I also discussed in a previous article, one reason is that alpine ski racing is one brutal sport, in which racers have amazing experiences, are challenged constantly, and learn powerful life lessons that serve them well in the wider world beyond our sport.

But this past week really drove home two more reasons why we are enjoying the ride as we slide down this slippery slope toward ski racing. And, interestingly, these two reasons are not directly related to our daughters.

First, as much as our girls love to come to Sugar Bowl, my wife and I love it as well. Admittedly, given my childhood immersed in ski racing at Mad River Glen (I was there a few weeks ago for the first time in 28 years and it hasn’t changed much) and then Burke Mountain Academy (hasn’t changed much either), it’s not a surprise that the life of a ‘skiing family’ (as opposed to a ‘family that skis’, i.e., one that skis periodically) is something that I am familiar with and enjoy immensely. It was a different story for my wife, Sarah. Though she grew up skiing and is a pretty darned capable skier (thanks to more than a decade of my ‘coaching’!), she had no idea what she was getting into when we began skiing with our girls.

She got a glimpse of it our very first weekend of Sugar Bowl ski team four years ago. After dropping our kids off with their coaches that initial morning, we joined up with a group of other parents and spent the day sharing great skiing and even better conversation. At the end of the day, having had a really good time, Sarah asked me if I knew this would happen. I smiled and said, “I had a feeling.”

Since then, after the kids came off the hill, we have spent many a sun-filled afternoon on the deck at Sugar Bowl’s Village Lodge imbibing in our favorite libations and having a grand old time while the children played in the snow happily and safely below us.

This same feeling to the start to our journey through ski racing was bookended by an epiphany I had this past week while Sarah and I were skiing with another couple we have become friends with over these past four years. After several runs, we went into the base lodge and chatted over coffee and hot chocolate. At one point during our conversation, I interrupted and said that I had to share a ‘mindful moment’ with them. I asked them in what other situation could four parents share a fun activity and stimulating repartee without an agenda or short timeline or worry about what our kids were doing, not to mention without the cost of babysitters and the price of a dinner. We couldn’t think of any. Can you?

Second, over these last four years at Sugar Bowl, my wife, daughters, and I have felt a tremendous sense of community among the ski team. The morning ritual of drop-off, the frequent ski team social events, the end-of-season Tiki family race, or, as happened last Friday, the snow dance competition in which the training groups exhorted the almighty snow gods to give us more water from the sky of the frozen and flaked variety.  All of these activities give our family a sense of belonging and connectedness that can’t be readily reproduced anywhere else in our lives (even in our neighborhood and school).

I don’t want to give the impression that I think that Sugar Bowl is so special as to be unique among ski clubs in the U.S. To the contrary, as I have worked with and visited many race programs around the country, I can say that I find the same bonds everywhere glued together by committed parents, passionate coaches, and decent and fun-loving kids.

I also don’t mean to assert some sort of superiority over other sports by suggesting that parents of children in, for example, soccer, swimming, tennis, baseball, basketball, football, hockey, or gymnastics, can’t develop good friendships or their families can’t feel a sense of community. But I don’t think that any sport can compete with ski racing (or other snow sports) based on the location or the activity. While ski racing parents in Northern California go to places such as Alpine Meadows, Squaw Valley, and Northstar for training and races (and other teams around the U.S. go to similar skiing locales), parents in these other sports go to places such as Stockton, Modesto, and Fresno (apologies to those three cities for my slight). Also, while ski racing parents can ski during their kids’ practices and competitions, parents in the other sports must sit on the side of soccer or football fields, tennis or basketball courts, hockey rinks, pools, or gymnasiums, all less than appealing venues, I think you would agree.

So, the next time you start to complain about the drive to your ski area from the big city or the ‘burbs (if you’re not lucky enough to live in the mountains), remember that, aside from the direct benefits that your children get from being ski racers (or other snow sport athletes), you and your family get many more through friendships and community as members of your local ski club. Not to mention getting a brief respite from your busy lives, a healthy dose of the great outdoors, and participation in a truly extraordinary family sport.