Report from February 17, 2026

We awoke yesterday to about two feet of new snow at the house down at 4,500′.

The plan was Méribel in Les 3 Vallées, France. The largest ski resort on Earth. The Epic Pass works here.

The morning started a bit rowdy as we tried to get my friend’s kid to ESF (École du Ski Français) ski school.

The Golf chair wasn’t scheduled to open until 10 am, so we dug out Esfand’s car, loaded the kid and all the gear, and immediately got stuck in stopped traffic. We aborted the mission, drove back, unpacked everything, and hoofed it to the Golf chair just in time for opening.

Esfand and I lapped Golf while waiting for other lifts to open. For a “baby” chair, Golf is pretty damn fun in powder.

Once Altiport opened, we popped up and over toward the Adret chair and settled in to wait.

We waited an hour in the blistering cold and pounding snow.

No, that’s a lie.

We waited inside the luxurious Adray Télébar lounge, snacking on pocket cookies, hot tea, hot chocolate, and leftover croissants from breakfast. The lounge drips with classic Savoyard decor, centered around a massive stone fireplace and a perfect window view of the Adret chair.

Eventually, we wandered outside and got in line behind a small crowd. A rugged, handsome liftie stepped forward and announced:

“Quarante-cinq minutes!” (45 minutes)

The crowd scattered.

We stayed.

Forty-five minutes later, we were on first chair.

We didn’t quite nail our first run. Our new friend from Sacramento, California, crashed and lost a ski in the deep snow.

On our second run, we traversed skier’s right beneath an adjacent chair and struck gold.

Cold smoke powder. Untouched. Fun.

We harvested four glorious laps there.

The weather was in and out sun and snowstorm, and we mostly got lucky with sun-kissed slopes as we dropped in.

Avalanche danger was still 4/5 “High.”

Then Nadia took me to a wild backcountry line off the Pas du Lac chair that I never would have found on my own. The terrain was steeper, more committing, and avalanche-prone, so we moved carefully, evaluating, and skied it smart.

It was the run of the day.

Deep, quiet, unforgettable.

We headed home happy, tired, and satisfied.

I stopped at the market and boulangerie and emerged victorious: three baguettes, four croissants, and four pains au chocolat.

“Les baguettes sont importantes,” I told the lady once again.

Walking through a quiet alpine village with arms full of fresh bread and pastries, snow falling gently, I felt French as hell.

Merci, la France.

Photos