https://www.newschoolers.com/videos/watch/1083288/PYLSUOFSKYNJANIR--hot-dog-hallucinations-Time slows down when you’re falling – down a mountain on skis, or off a ladder like in an insurance commercial. It speeds up when we want to hang on the most. When we try to be present, the moment is already gone. Memories claw back at the timeline. Recounting stories suspends us, but still – we fall back to the normalcy that we know, just like gravity pulls us back to the ground. Traveling to Iceland throws that normal away, just far enough so that we can live outside of it for a few sweet days. It's like how skiing creates moments of weightlessness. Combine the two and we’re left chasing that dream, forever.

Iceland - the land of names with too many letters that should be next to each other, one-lane tunnels that host two-way traffic, and ski lines as far as the mind can fathom. This waterfall-studded land of geologic anomalies has long delivered mind-bending natural beauty, but it is also host to some of the greatest spring skiing on the planet. Ribbons of snow stretch to connect rocky mountain tops with crystal blue fjords. Pretty memories of a fading winter to many, these vestiges of snow became our objective. In search of this altered reality, we landed in Reykjavik.

Every few years, these trips around the globe bring a group of friends together. As we grow older and geographically farther apart, it’s these trips that take us back in time. Chronicling the travels inevitably leads to reflections on feelings, friendship, the inherent privilege of skiing, and the different ways we fit skiing into our lives. This time around, a bachelor party of sorts brought together our biggest crew yet – seven of us in a cabin on Iceland’s Troll Peninsula.

The trips used to be about chasing storms, finding the gnarliest lines, and getting the sickest shots, but now it’s more about the company we keep and the bonds we make pushing beyond the ragged rim of the unknown. As continue to grow up, the people who matter are the ones we keep around, the ones we can be vulnerable with, and the ones who keep coming back for more.

Being skiers, we’ve collectively descended millions of vertical feet, making countless turns. While it’s these turns we chase around the world, it’s the other moments that we remember. In skiing, one turn blends effortlessly into another, as they do in our memory. But it’s the periphery, the context, the landscape, and the friendships that are truly memorable and meaningful. Iceland gave us just enough snow to get by and still call it worth it, but more importantly its unique realities transported us to the timeless feeling of simply skiing with friends.