Skier: Cara Williams

Blue Like a Local

by Cara Williams | photography by Clay Dolan 

From after-school jibbers to retirees, these seasoned locals know the mountain’s rhythm—the best times, hidden stashes, and quiet trails at Blue Mountain. 

There’s a shared knowledge among Blue Mountain regulars. They inherently know the best runs to ski, where the snow holds up just a little longer, and when the crowd recedes enough to give you a clean shot down. For those who carve the mountain week after week, year after year, Blue is more than a ski resort; it’s a ritual, a rhythm, a kind of second home where each turn on familiar runs offers a fresh thrill.

While locals at other resorts might be reluctant to share their best-kept secrets, Blue’s community has a certain generosity—a willingness to reveal favourite spots because this mountain holds a special place in each of their hearts. Ask the après crowd gathered at Jozo’s, or the retirees savouring every powder day they can get, and if you listen long enough, they’ll let slip a hidden gem or two. They know the art of timing, when the trails are at their best, and how to find quiet pockets amid the bustle.

Prentice Smith, retired for over 20 years, is a long-time skier and Georgian Peaks member who has his winter mornings at Blue Mountain down to a well-loved routine. He buys a 5X7™ pass every season, and on days when the Peaks are closed, he heads to Blue early, taking advantage of the quieter slopes and freshly groomed runs. By 8:30, he’s already skiing, starting at the south end and gradually working his way north, cruising down favourite trails like Waterfall, Rinus Run, and Tranquility. He loves the way Blue feels in the early hours—untouched, almost as if it’s there just for him and a few other die-hards.

By mid-morning, Prentice is ready for a break, often stopping for a coffee at Grand Central. This is where he reconnects with other regulars, catching up with friends he’s known for years or meeting new faces who share his appreciation for Blue’s tempo. “I usually run into somebody I know,” he says, “and we’ll sit, chat, make a bit of a day out of it—well, half a day, anyway. If the conditions are good, I’ll ski until noon.” For Prentice, Blue isn’t just about the skiing; it’s the sense of community, the camaraderie. And the fresh air and snow.

Ask another local about the perfect early-morning run, and you’ll likely hear murmurs of Schuss. This intermediate-to-advanced trail on the north end is for skiers who crave a good challenge, especially in the crisp, early light before the sun fully rises. It’s a local favourite, offering just enough bite to keep you alert and wanting more. On the opposite side of the resort is Gord’s Groove—a smooth, scenic descent with forgiving turns and sweeping views that stretch all the way to Collingwood’s grain elevators and Georgian Bay. It’s a run where the novice and beginner crowd can take their time, perfecting their turns while appreciating a green run’s slower pace.

Then, there’s Kandahar—a favourite run of mine for so long, I can hardly remember a season without it. As one of the original three runs cut at Blue Mountain in 1941, alongside Granny and Schuss, Kandahar holds a special place in the mountain’s history. This gentle, tree-lined slope isn’t about speed or sharp edges; it invites you to ease into every turn, to let go of urgency and simply glide. Its winding path is a quiet tribute to the founders of the Toronto Ski Club, who envisioned this place over a hundred years ago and laid the groundwork for Blue Mountain’s ski culture. Those who know Kandahar well often slip down it in the late afternoon, when shadows stretch across the snow and the sun dips behind the mountain, casting everything in a soft, fading glow. To me, this trail feels private in a way that’s increasingly rare, especially as Blue Mountain draws more skiers each season. It’s the kind of spot you don’t mind sharing with friends because once they discover it, they, too, understand its draw—a calmness that feels timeless, a quiet reminder of the mountain’s roots. 

As dusk settles, the mountain transforms for the afterschool crowd, the post-work skiers, and the night owls. The glow of lights along the trails creates an entirely new landscape, usually with fewer people. If you’ve been here all day, you might spot a few familiar faces from the slopes—only now under a different sky, trading stories of the day. 

Skier: Cole Drexler

For Ian Damsma, a senior at Georgian Bay Community School, Blue is a second home where he finds freedom and flow. “Badlands in the terrain park is my favourite,” he says, “but I love skiing at Central too.” Ian hits the slopes every day after school and on weekends, often meeting up with friends as he switches between his snowboard and skis. And when the day or evening winds down, he heads to the South Base Lodge, where a hot, loaded poutine waits—his idea of the perfect end to a day well spent.

Which reminds me, Blue isn’t just about skiing. After a day on the slopes, an easy camaraderie settles among those gathered at Jozo’s Original Après, slipping in for a pint at the Central Lodge, or unwinding with beer and nachos at the Bullwheel Pub at the south end. The conversation is often all shop: how the snow held up, who managed to find fresh corduroy, and whose kids braved their first black diamond. This is the après culture at Blue, where the lines between friends and strangers blur, bound by a shared love of winter and a desire to savour every minute before heading back down to reality—and to a good night’s sleep. 

Ultimately, Blue Mountain is a place that belongs as much to the old-timers as to the newcomers. Those who know it’s quiet runs and hidden stashes form a welcoming community, eager to let you in on the magic if you ask kindly enough. Because at Blue, the best-kept secrets aren’t hidden—they’re shared from skier to skier, woven into the mountain’s snow-covered trails. E