A Letter To Skiers After One of the Worst Avalanche Weeks In History

Dear skiers,

Standing outside my garage, shovel in hand, smiling as I glared at the buckets of snow that had accumulated in just a few hours of what would be a multiple-day-long storm, my housemate said a handful of words that sent a shiver down my spine.

"There's a huge emergency response on Castle Peak right now. I think multiple people are missing in an avalanche."

Nine skiers died near Castle Peak on Tuesday, February 17, 2026. Two skiers and two snowmobilers would die in avalanche-related incidents in Utah and Idaho before the week was over.

13 lives were lost to avalanches in less than seven days.

If you're struggling, desperately trying to make sense of these tragedies, know that I am, too.

My therapist asked me a question today that I wanted to share: "Okay," he said with a pause, "we just talked about everything that you can't control. What can you control?"

Staring back through our Zoom call, I pondered his question and pretended like he hadn't asked me that dozens of times before.

"That's...well...okay...good point," I admitted in defeat.

After a few hours of further pondering, and despite my internal frustration with my therapist always being right (how does he do it?!?!), here's what I can control, and what you can control as well, dear reader, in light of last week's tragedies:

• I can continue my avalanche safety knowledge through programs like AIARE.
• I can withhold judgment, anger, and assumptions. They do not serve me well.
• I can cry.
• I can check in on myself.
• I can check in on my friends.
• I can go skiing.
• I can take a break from skiing.
• I can call, text, message, or visit my friends and tell them that I love them.
• I can reach out to other skiers.
• I can stop doom-scrolling and go outside.

I'll leave you with one final thought. It's a bit dark, but bear with me.

Hanging with a group of friends at our favorite après joint, the news spread that the final victim's body was located and recovered from the Castle Peak avalanche.

I watched as the mood quickly turned from jovial and celebratory of the day's powder laps to sad, sullen, and depressed. All of us, whether we admitted it or not, had imagined that the victim was someone we knew.

We couldn't help but internalize the tragedy and project how awful it must be on the victim's friends, families, and loved ones.

It's arguable whether empathy is a learned trait, but after last week's tragedies, I've decided that, amongst skiers, empathy is inherent.

That, at the very least, is a beautiful thing.

Stay safe out there, friends.

Love,

Matt.