As the nights get longer, the weather gets warmer, and for reasons that has baffled scientists for years, everybody starts to look much better, we can finally say that Summer is pretty much here.
For some that means hopping straight on a plane to a Mediterranean island listening to music that’s only tolerable when off your face on enough pills to make all the pandas horny. For others it signals the festival season, and the chance to get those Top Shop garms caked in mud and piss.
However, for those of us that love the snow, this can be a very troubling time. Unless you’re of to New Zealand (where, incidentally, it’s fucking dumping!) your time on snow for the year is pretty much over.
But don’t worry. You aren’t alone. We’re going through exactly the same thing. For all true snow lovers, these are the seven phases of mourning.
1) Shock And Denial
You find yourself checking the snow forecasts for any resort within a two day drive of your front door. After all, there still has to be snow out there somewhere, right? It can’t just… go!
Do: Slowly wean yourself off your obsession. Gradually introduce other meteorological information into your daily ritual. Keep yourself occupied by seeing how many feet of rain have fell in Wales that week, for example.
Do not: Cover your screen in TipEx and manically cry “NOW IT’S SNOWING! LOOK MARGARET! LOOK AT THE SNOW!” before curling up in the foetal position and accepting that Margaret walked out on you several weeks ago.
2) Pain And Guilt
When the shock wears off, you find yourself wondering WHY!? Why does everything you love always run away from you? You question which god you’ve upset to have forced such horror on your life.
Do: Accept the disassociation of yourself and the environment. The thawing snow isn’t your fault. After all, if you could control the weather, you’d be stinkin’ rich, right?
Do not: Sacrifice Rochelle from behind the bar of the Nags Head to the snow gods. Not only is it murder, the chances of her being a virgin disappeared the night before your dad mysteriously got barred for life.
The whole injustice of the situation leaves you furious. You anger peaks, and all of a sudden you find yourself with more hatred flowing through your body than a Tory MP faced with somebody outside of the aristocracy.
Do: Put that energy into something constructive. Take it to the gym, smash up those old fence panels that have sat behind the shed for eight months, or furiously type ‘FAKE’ on the Facebook comments of an action sports website.
Do not: Take that anger out on your snowboard. Granted, you’ve already dug fairly terminal gauges out the base when you accidentally went over a bunch of rocks that shouldn’t have be on the slope, but snapping it in half like a petulant pro isn’t the answer. That’s the best part of £300 you’re spunking up the wall.
You feel like the only people that really get you are the mix of assorted Europeans in a basement bar, probably called The Marmot. You had Jäger bombs, you had laughter, you had a urinary infection the next morning. And now they’ve gone, and nobody else understands this pain. The magnitude of your loss it just starting to hit you.
Do: Try to accept that these memories, while pleasant, are now memories. And the best thing about memories is making new ones, not looking back on old ones. Your entire life is still ahead of you to go out and drink Sambuca from a boot in a whole host of questionable alpine bars.
Do not: Download Tinder
5) The Upward Turn
Like a gentle breeze blowing through your life, all of a sudden, you find yourself accepting this post-snow existence. Everything is a little calmer. You find the time to get a little organised. You even move those stinking snowboard boots away from the front door as you accept that it’s probably not going to dump now it’s June.
Do: Slowly start moving your snowboard stuff away into the garage, wardrobe, porn dungeon, or wherever you keep it. Yes, you’ll probably hold on to that Neff beanie for a few minutes as you shed a silent tear. But that’s alright. You’re moving on.
Do not: Try to let go of everything at once. This is a gradual process. Scientists in Königheim have proved that going cold turkey during the upward turn phase can, statistically, lead to regression back into earlier, darker phases. In some cases, it can even lead to becoming one of those “Yeah, I used to snowboard a bit. Now I’m more focused on my career” wankers. Be warned.
You start to become a proper functioning human being again. Well, as much as your were before the thaw at least. Life without snow starts to be an imaginable concept. You once again find the motivation to leave the house. To exist within society. To go to the paper shop and wonder who the fuck actually buys Narrow Boat Weekly.
Do: Embrace the new found bravery. This is the time to start getting your life back on track. Start paying off the spiralling pizza and porn bills you’ve racked up while you’ve been going all Radiohead.
Do not: Overdose on the real world. You’ll be like a little new born foal, taking it’s first steps into the barmy summer sunshine. Yes, other human beings look nice with less clothes on, but be warned: there be chlamydia.
The final stage sees you finally accept that the snow has gone, That’s it. No more. Ever. Or not at least until next November. Well, hopefully November. There was snow last Nove… hang on!
There was no snow last November. In fact, it was a bad season all over for snow. Apart from Japan. But where the fuck is Japan? Oh God! No! NO! You’re lost! Alone!
Only joking. Chin up. The snow will fall again, and this time you’ll be marginally less shit, which is always a bonus.
Do: Occupy your summer with skateboarding, surfing, rock climbing, and the kind of adventures that really come to life when the sun is in the sky, and the ground is dry.
Do not: Promise yourself that you’ll occupy your summer with skateboarding, surfing, rock climbing, and the kind of adventures that really come to life when the sun is on the sky, and the ground is dry, only to sit in your bed sit, occasionally playing a snowboarding game on your phone and clicking refresh on YouTube on the off chance that Scott Stevens drop another edit.