Ski Etiquette
Don't be a Jerry
A "Jerry" is ski culture's affectionate term for the skier who shows up unprepared, makes avoidable mistakes, and turns a great day on the mountain into a cautionary tale. Here's everything NOT to do — from gear disasters to on-mountain etiquette — so you can shred with confidence.
Gear disasters
The fastest way to spot a Jerry is from the lift. These are the gear mistakes that scream "first day, rented everything, read nothing."
The Gaper Gap
The telltale gap between the top of your goggles and the bottom of your helmet — inches of bare forehead exposed to wind, snow, and the judgment of every skier on the lift above you. Fix: buy goggles that mate with your helmet brand, or at minimum try them on together before hitting the mountain.
Jeans Tucked Into Ski Boots
Denim bunched inside a ski boot cuts off circulation, soaks through on the first fall, and freeze-dries into cardboard by lunch. Notice the properly dressed skiers in the background — they see it too. A proper 3/4-length merino baselayer bottom ends above the boot top — zero bulk, full warmth, full blood flow.
No Helmet
"I've been skiing 30 years and never hit my head." Trees, ice, other skiers, and chairlift towers don't care about your track record. Modern MIPS helmets are light, warm, and have saved countless brains. There's no excuse anymore.
Cotton Base Layers
"Cotton kills" isn't just a saying — cotton absorbs moisture, holds it against your skin, and steals body heat 25x faster than dry fabric. One run in a cotton hoodie + cotton tee and you're a shivering mess by 10 AM. Merino wool or synthetic. Every layer. No exceptions.
Double Socks for "Extra Warmth"
Two pairs of thick socks compress the boot liner, restrict blood flow to your toes, create pressure points, and actually make your feet COLDER. One thin merino over-the-calf sock is all you need — your boot was designed for it.
Gas Station Gloves
Those thin knit gloves with the rubber dots "for grip" — soaked by 10 AM, frozen solid by 10:30, hands in jacket pockets by 11. Leather palm + waterproof insert is the minimum. Your fingers will thank you for the extra $80.
On the mountain
Gear is just the start. These are the on-mountain behaviors that make ski patrol sigh, locals cringe, and your own day worse than it needs to be.
Stopping in the Middle of a Run
Standing in the middle of a trail — especially below a blind roller or in a narrow chute — is how collisions happen. If you need to stop, pull to the side where you're visible from above. The Skier Responsibility Code is real and it's your job to know it.
Cutting Lift Lines
"My friend is up there" — no they're not. Merging aggressively, skating past the maze, or hopping the rope all earn you the stink-eye from 50 people who waited their turn. Same goes for singles lines: if you're not actually a single, you're not a single.
Skiing Terrain Beyond Your Ability
That double-black looked cool from the lift, but now you're side-slipping a 40-degree icy face at 2 mph while a line of advanced skiers waits behind you. Know your limits. Work up to harder terrain gradually. There's zero shame in enjoying blue groomers — they're half the mountain for a reason.
Blasting Music on a Bluetooth Speaker
Nobody on the chairlift needs to hear your playlist. The mountains are quiet for a reason — wind, snow crunching under edges, and the sound of an entire forest are the soundtrack. Wear earbuds or AirPods (one ear only, for safety) if you need tunes.
Not Knowing How to Load a Chairlift
Watch the chair come around. Shuffle to the load line. Sit when it hits the back of your knees. Pull the bar down. It's not complicated, but a botched load slows the whole lift for everyone. If you're new, tell the liftie — they'll slow it down. No shame, ever.
Ignoring Trail Closures
Ropes and signs aren't suggestions. Closed terrain means rocks barely covered, avalanche danger, or active snowmaking with ice cannons. Ducking ropes can get your pass pulled on the spot — and for good reason. Ski patrol closes things to keep you alive.
Leaving Gear Everywhere in the Lodge
Boots sprawled across three seats, poles leaning on every surface, wet gloves draped on the cafeteria table where someone's eating. A ski rack is right outside. Use it. And your boots go on the floor under your seat, not on the bench next to someone's lunch.
The anti-Jerry checklist
The good news: not being a Jerry is easy. Here's the shortlist.
- Helmet — always, every run, no debate
- Goggles that mate with your helmet — zero gap
- Merino or synthetic base layers — never cotton
- One pair of thin over-the-calf ski socks
- Waterproof jacket + pants with sealed seams
- Boots fitted by a professional — not ordered online by size
- Know the Skier Responsibility Code
- Stop to the side, never in the middle of a run
- Ski terrain you can handle — push limits gradually
- Be kind in the lift line, the lodge, and on the hill