As we entered The Buff Restaurant in Boulder, CO, every person in there — and there were maybe 40 — must have taken notice of these two guys. Mike Clarke and Ahmet Dadali, opposing Road Trip Challengers, were quite the motley crew indeed. Replacing the typical Boulder dress code of popped collars, topsiders and gelled hair with ski industry tees and unkempt hair, the pair looked less like Affleck and Damon and more like Bill and Ted. People didn’t stare, rather, they shot quick glances and continued their meals, blissfully unaware that passing them were two immensely talented skiers.
We were seated at a small table in the dark corner of the restaurant next to the air conditioning vent. And to add to that noise, a crying baby seemed to be a permanent fixture behind Clarke. I could have asked them official questions that none of us really cared about — what are you summer plans, who are your sponsors, do you like competing or filming more — but I refrained. I could have opted for the recorder and made things really official, signifying that this was a business meal, but it stayed concealed in my pocket. Instead, I ate and they talked. Behind mouthfuls of food, I was desperately trying to commit the details of the conversation to memory; all the while my recorder burning a hole in my pocket. This would be the worst interview ever. Trying to remember all the details was an increasing concern — what movies they’d seen lately [no idea, maybe Pirates 3?]. what types of shoes they like [again, no idea], how they ate [sloppily, I think] and those trampy sorority girls next to us [Ahmet liked the tall one in the white skirt].
Delicious. That was the word du jour. Describing Clarke’ s large chocolate milk, Ahmet’s breakfast tacos. and those sorority sirens seated close to us. Although, the duo wasn’t completely sold on the Jelly Bellys we bought from the vending machine in the lobby — ranging from delicious to a simple “ew.” That was the other word of the day. The baby’s whine. Clarke’s dirty living room floor. Ahmet’s fetish for YouTube. Ew.
You’d like to think that after spending hours with any exciting young skiers, you’d hear plenty of ski banter; which tricks are cool [no idea] and which tricks aren’t, who the next big up-and-comer is [probably someone half my age] and which upcoming ski movie will be the best. Read the magazines and blogs, you will learn plenty of ski news. The breakfast table was set aside for more important conversation — girls and afternoon BBQ plans.
After buying another round of jelly beans, we exit the restaurant, only to get into an impromptu camera phone photo session. We were met with confused glances from passers by as Ahmet jokingly posed with a hotel maid’s cart — a little too natural looking was Clarke’s comment. Soon, it was Clarke’s turn in the hot seat, towering over a blue, mid-life crisis looking sports car. Sooner or later, life has to move on, and we had to end the meeting. Shortly, both would be on the phone with team managers, discussing travel plans to wherever, all in the name of freeskiing. And as wonderful as it is that we can all make a living in the ski industry, it was a nice departure from the norm, suspending work, if only for two hours, to enjoy breakfast.
