RIP MAXIM ARSENAULT – The Most Stoked Skier Out There
I’m totally unmotivated to write yet another farewell article for a passionate skier who was killed too soon. That, and last I checked the news outlets were still withholding his name while his next of kin are notified. But news like this travels fast these days, so every skier with a computer has probably already seen that the ski community lost an amazing comrade today. That comrade was the legendary, always-more-stoked-than-you, cliff stomping, pow chasing animal known as Maxim Arsenault.
The consoling difference with Max is that we all know he managed to pack 100 lifetimes into his one short life. I don’t know what Max ate for breakfast every day, but he was literally the most stoked person on the ski hill, all day, every day, until daylight forced him to retreat home for the night.
It wasn’t easy for Max to pack in hundreds more pow days into his life than we ever will. He earned it. From dawn till dusk he was scanning for opportunities to make the most of his day. A recent deep and sunny powder day on Blackcomb was a perfect example. After an hour of waiting in line for the Crystal Chair to crack open, Max had already managed to weasel his way to the 2nd chair from the front. But that wasn’t enough for Max. When the phone rang and the liftie opened the gate , Max actually tried to jump onto the chair BEFOFE the first chair. Who does that? That’s what we call eager, and he was just getting warmed up. The next lap, everyone turned to Glacier Chair and the imminent line up that would start building for Spanky’s Ladder. While hundreds of skiers piled like sheep into a record-breaking line-up that stretched all the way back to the chairlift, Max was the only man brave enough and eager enough to ski straight past the entire line and casually set his own bootpack through the rocks like a boss. He probably ended that day (as late as possible) with a quality apres session at Merlins – sharing the stoke from his day in that crazed, fiery-eyed way that only Maxim could.
Now repeat that, every day of the winter, all through life. Yep, he made the most of it.
Max was a central character in the hedonistic tribe of #Darkside lifers who dedicate their winters to shredding as much Blackcomb powder as possible. His charisma, enthusiasm, ah screw it, STOKE is the only word you can really use here. His stoke was unparalleled, and will be greatly missed by everyone who has had the pleasure of skiing a lap with him on a powder day.
Rest in peace Max. Your infectious stoke will live on in every person you crossed paths with in your wild ride of life.
I don’t actually yet know the circumstances around Max’s death, except for this CBC news article.
Re-Live Some Max Moments: