Poaching

[Eddytheyetti]

Just don’t wear underwear if you are going to poach


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[jimmywilson69]

They can even track what brand of underwear you're wearing, so always wear clean underwear to K.

Of course they can tell what brand and of underwear and if its clean. I'll be proudly displaying it in the K1 when I arrive and before I boot up for the day!

[Captain Hafski]

I too am throwing the BS flag on trail RFID sensors.

Butt, gotta believe that IF YOU HAVE TRACKING TURNED ON they can track you via the App GPS.

Regardless, it is what it is. Be careful out there.

[jimmywilson69]

Why are you all using Killington's app anyways? while i track my skiing I use an external App.

I've never used the Epic App and will continue to not because using your phone as a lift ticket is dumb.

[rogman]

They can even track what brand of underwear you're wearing, so always wear clean underwear to K.

Of course they can tell what brand and of underwear and if its clean. I'll be proudly displaying it in the K1 when I arrive and before I boot up for the day!

Bayfive needs to get his jollies somehow

[RustyK]

Killington IS the poached egg on toast.

All new snow is decimated within 2 hours. Opened or closed.

[TheLurker]

Is the app even tied to your pass?


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Did you give them your cell phone number or your landline number?

People have land lines?!

[Dude GFY]

I dont wear underwear in the lodge when I change in the morning. Just my depends and my blue rona mask. I saw you staring the other day Mr. Bay 5.

[biged]

Any issues with poaching uphill travel?

[ski]

ALERT !
A Slope at Pico has been poached !

Does it count if they're not open yet??

[Captain Hafski]

Killington IS the poached egg on toast.

All new snow is decimated within 2 hours. Opened or closed.

Exactly why I went to the Bush yesterday [Thursday] !!

[rogman]

Killington IS the poached egg on toast.

All new snow is decimated within 2 hours. Opened or closed.

Absolutely not true!

Although most of our open terrain is groomed, there are still plenty of powder stashes and areas of packed powder on our recently opened natural trails, such as Upper Downdraft, Ridge Run and Upper Royal Flush.

Who you going to believe, that or your lying eyes? For the record, both Vag and Northstar had good snow. Not sure I’d call it the light fluffy stuff but whatever.

[Pedro]

Every day, Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger, while the skiers and riders think they rule the mountains. But up there in the white wilderness, it's a different world. A world where rules bend like ski poles in a wipeout. My friends, kings of the slopes in their minds, poach trails with the same disregard as a renegade soldier in a war-torn jungle. They don't see the danger, the chaos they're creating, not just for themselves, but for others. Like phantoms, they glide down forbidden paths, believing they're invincible.

In this mountain jungle, I'm the watchful eye, the ski patroller, forbidden to chase but always vigilant. We're the unseen guardians, the ones who step into the fray when these thrill-seekers inevitably fall victim to their own hubris. It's a thankless job, like trying to contain the madness of war.

And just like in war, there's this twisted sense of invincibility in these skiers. They barrel down crowded trails, a blur of arrogance and speed, thinking they're in control. But control is just an illusion in the face of nature's unpredictable wrath.

The moment of reckoning comes for some, a harsh awakening as they're stripped of their mountain privileges, a lecture ringing in their ears. But it's a rare victory. For every one caught, countless others continue, guided only by the law of not getting caught. And in their minds, they're special, exceptions to the rule, untouchable.

But out there, in the white expanse, nature doesn't care about your exceptions. The mountain doesn't discriminate. It waits, silent and indifferent, as the game continues, as they all play their dangerous game of cat and mouse with fate. And I watch, helplessly, as every day, Charlie gets stronger in the bush

[Southside_Bobby]

Every day, Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger, while the skiers and riders think they rule the mountains. But up there in the white wilderness, it's a different world. A world where rules bend like ski poles in a wipeout. My friends, kings of the slopes in their minds, poach trails with the same disregard as a renegade soldier in a war-torn jungle. They don't see the danger, the chaos they're creating, not just for themselves, but for others. Like phantoms, they glide down forbidden paths, believing they're invincible.

In this mountain jungle, I'm the watchful eye, the ski patroller, forbidden to chase but always vigilant. We're the unseen guardians, the ones who step into the fray when these thrill-seekers inevitably fall victim to their own hubris. It's a thankless job, like trying to contain the madness of war.

And just like in war, there's this twisted sense of invincibility in these skiers. They barrel down crowded trails, a blur of arrogance and speed, thinking they're in control. But control is just an illusion in the face of nature's unpredictable wrath.

The moment of reckoning comes for some, a harsh awakening as they're stripped of their mountain privileges, a lecture ringing in their ears. But it's a rare victory. For every one caught, countless others continue, guided only by the law of not getting caught. And in their minds, they're special, exceptions to the rule, untouchable.

But out there, in the white expanse, nature doesn't care about your exceptions. The mountain doesn't discriminate. It waits, silent and indifferent, as the game continues, as they all play their dangerous game of cat and mouse with fate. And I watch, helplessly, as every day, Charlie gets stronger in the bush

[rogman]

Every day, Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger, while the skiers and riders think they rule the mountains. But up there in the white wilderness, it's a different world. A world where rules bend like ski poles in a wipeout. My friends, kings of the slopes in their minds, poach trails with the same disregard as a renegade soldier in a war-torn jungle. They don't see the danger, the chaos they're creating, not just for themselves, but for others. Like phantoms, they glide down forbidden paths, believing they're invincible.

In this mountain jungle, I'm the watchful eye, the ski patroller, forbidden to chase but always vigilant. We're the unseen guardians, the ones who step into the fray when these thrill-seekers inevitably fall victim to their own hubris. It's a thankless job, like trying to contain the madness of war.

And just like in war, there's this twisted sense of invincibility in these skiers. They barrel down crowded trails, a blur of arrogance and speed, thinking they're in control. But control is just an illusion in the face of nature's unpredictable wrath.

The moment of reckoning comes for some, a harsh awakening as they're stripped of their mountain privileges, a lecture ringing in their ears. But it's a rare victory. For every one caught, countless others continue, guided only by the law of not getting caught. And in their minds, they're special, exceptions to the rule, untouchable.

But out there, in the white expanse, nature doesn't care about your exceptions. The mountain doesn't discriminate. It waits, silent and indifferent, as the game continues, as they all play their dangerous game of cat and mouse with fate. And I watch, helplessly, as every day, Charlie gets stronger in the bush

WT absolute F is wrong with you people? Equating poaching with the Vietnam War? Awful. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Vile.