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Because the start of ski season coincides with something we rarely talk about: a spike in struggle. As the days get darker and colder, and as life accelerates toward the holidays, many people quietly slip into depression, anxiety, isolation, or substance abuse. Some fight it in silence. Some mask it behind adventure. Some never say a word.
If you’re reading this, consider this your reminder: ask one person in your life how they’re really doing. And listen.
In this Episode #18 of Above the Treeline, I had a powerful conversation with professional skier and mental health advocate Drew Petersen, a personal hero, and someone who understands the stakes more than most.
A Conversation on Skiing, Survival, and Purpose
When Drew and I met for the first time, it didn’t take long to realize his story isn’t just about skiing. It’s about staying alive.
He told me he recently moved to Carbondale, Colorado new home, new trails, new community and that this season he’ll be skiing Aspen. We talked about the joy of the shoulder season: trail running, mountain biking, desert trips to Moab. But almost immediately, our conversation slid to something deeper: mental health, suicide, addiction, and why these topics belong everywhere, including in the mountains and in business.
When I mentioned seeing clips of his TED Talk circulating around Instagram and Facebook, he laughed at the irony:
“There’s an irony in the term ‘public speaking’ because public speaking mostly happens in private.”
His talk is reaching people. And it matters. Because as Drew put it, mental illness is everywhere. It sits in every industry. Every community. Every family.
And yes, every ski town.
Mountain Life Isn’t Just Powder Days
Living in places like Breckenridge, Park City, or Aspen looks idyllic. But as Drew explained, these communities carry some of the highest suicide rates in the country.
* Intense lifestyles with massive highs and crushing lows
* Pressure to perform or “keep up”
* Transient communities with weak support systems
* Substance abuse woven into social culture
* A stigma that tells people they should be “living the dream,” so why admit they’re struggling?
For me, Drew’s stories hit me personally. They reminded me of my son Alex, and of how many young people, especially those drawn to mountains, speed, and adventure battle something invisible beneath the surface.
Drew said something that stuck with me:
“When I started to realize what was going on around me… I felt less alone. And then I felt terrified.”
You can be surrounded by beauty and still be hurting. You can be at the peak of the mountain, or like my Alex, jumping out of an airplane, and still feel the edge.
TreelinePress is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
The Role of Community: Lift Lines, Narcan, and Real Conversations
At one point, Drew and I talked about substance abuse, alcohol, opioids, fentanyl and how deeply intertwined these problems are with suicide. I shared stories of talking with strangers on chairlifts who casually mentioned meth or pills the way you’d mention après beers.
His response was direct:
“We gotta make Narcan cool.”
This is what he means:We need conversations in lift lines.We need stickers. Posters. Training.We need to normalize awareness, not bury it.We need recovery to be as visible as the next powder day advertisement.
Drew is nearly six years sober. He talks about it openly because someone needs to.
Running for His Life: Leadville and the “Why”
Most people know Drew as a professional skier featured in movies, industry ads and magazine covers. But many also know him through his film “Feel It All,” which follows his attempt to run the Leadville 100 while threading his mental health story throughout.
This year he ran Leadville again his fourth time and described it as the most fun he’s ever had running 100 miles, at 10,000 feet above sea level. (Fun?)
He also described the evolution of his “why”:
* One race was an act of self-love.
* Another was about being a vessel of love.
* All of it was about learning to love himself after years of hating himself “to his absolute core.”
Near the end of our conversation, he said something I want to carve into the top of every trailhead sign in Colorado:
“Simply by being human beings on this planet… we are all deserving of and worthy of love.”
Schools, Youth, and the Moment That Defined His Purpose
Drew has been pouring an enormous amount of energy into speaking at schools. Middle schools. High schools. Universities. Meeting Hope Squads, students nominated by peers to lead suicide-prevention programs.
In one high school gym in Idaho, Drew stood in front of 1,300 students with his film playing on the scoreboard.
He told me that during a moment in the film where he talks openly about suicidal thoughts, he looked around at those kids and felt something snap into place:
“That is the exact moment. That is my purpose on earth. It’s why I didn’t kill myself.”
That’s what resonance looks like.That’s what impact looks like.That’s what purpose looks like.
Drew lives it everyday for everyone struggling with mental health issues.
Above the Treeline: The Metaphor We Share
Toward the end, we talked about the metaphor that’s shaped both of our work.
For me, Above the Treeline is about perspective getting out of the dense forest of life and seeing clearly again.
For Drew, it’s literal. When he moved to Carbondale, the first thing he knew he needed to do was climb Mount Sopris. Peaks are places of ceremony, clarity, and transition for him.
He told me:
“Being in the alpine is where life feels the most vibrant. Where perspective shifts.”
That’s why I’m using one of his photos in the opening my keynote, a shot of him climbing a snowy ridge above the green summer valley floor. It forces people to look differently at the story I’m telling. And that’s the point.
We have to get Above The Treeline to see where we are.And sometimes to see where we’re going.And sometimes just to see that we’re not alone.
Closing Thoughts: As the Snow Falls
The ski season is beginning. We’ll wax skis, check avalanche gear, line up first chair. We’ll chase the storms, the turns, the bluebird days.
But let’s also check in with each other.
Look for changes.Ask questions.Notice silence.Reach out.Share your own story when you can.Use Drew’s story when you can’t.
And remember Drew’s final reminder:
We are all deserving of love.We are all worthy of love.No qualifier required.
Thanks to Drew for the honesty, the humor, the humanity, and for the work he does on and off the mountain.
When the snow finally starts to fly here in Colorado, I’ll head to Aspen and take Drew up on his offer: a chairlift conversation, some turns, and a big wide groomer to “let ’er rip.”
Stay safe out there.Stay connected.
And most of all stay Above The Treeline.
By Andrew YoungBecause the start of ski season coincides with something we rarely talk about: a spike in struggle. As the days get darker and colder, and as life accelerates toward the holidays, many people quietly slip into depression, anxiety, isolation, or substance abuse. Some fight it in silence. Some mask it behind adventure. Some never say a word.
If you’re reading this, consider this your reminder: ask one person in your life how they’re really doing. And listen.
In this Episode #18 of Above the Treeline, I had a powerful conversation with professional skier and mental health advocate Drew Petersen, a personal hero, and someone who understands the stakes more than most.
A Conversation on Skiing, Survival, and Purpose
When Drew and I met for the first time, it didn’t take long to realize his story isn’t just about skiing. It’s about staying alive.
He told me he recently moved to Carbondale, Colorado new home, new trails, new community and that this season he’ll be skiing Aspen. We talked about the joy of the shoulder season: trail running, mountain biking, desert trips to Moab. But almost immediately, our conversation slid to something deeper: mental health, suicide, addiction, and why these topics belong everywhere, including in the mountains and in business.
When I mentioned seeing clips of his TED Talk circulating around Instagram and Facebook, he laughed at the irony:
“There’s an irony in the term ‘public speaking’ because public speaking mostly happens in private.”
His talk is reaching people. And it matters. Because as Drew put it, mental illness is everywhere. It sits in every industry. Every community. Every family.
And yes, every ski town.
Mountain Life Isn’t Just Powder Days
Living in places like Breckenridge, Park City, or Aspen looks idyllic. But as Drew explained, these communities carry some of the highest suicide rates in the country.
* Intense lifestyles with massive highs and crushing lows
* Pressure to perform or “keep up”
* Transient communities with weak support systems
* Substance abuse woven into social culture
* A stigma that tells people they should be “living the dream,” so why admit they’re struggling?
For me, Drew’s stories hit me personally. They reminded me of my son Alex, and of how many young people, especially those drawn to mountains, speed, and adventure battle something invisible beneath the surface.
Drew said something that stuck with me:
“When I started to realize what was going on around me… I felt less alone. And then I felt terrified.”
You can be surrounded by beauty and still be hurting. You can be at the peak of the mountain, or like my Alex, jumping out of an airplane, and still feel the edge.
TreelinePress is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
The Role of Community: Lift Lines, Narcan, and Real Conversations
At one point, Drew and I talked about substance abuse, alcohol, opioids, fentanyl and how deeply intertwined these problems are with suicide. I shared stories of talking with strangers on chairlifts who casually mentioned meth or pills the way you’d mention après beers.
His response was direct:
“We gotta make Narcan cool.”
This is what he means:We need conversations in lift lines.We need stickers. Posters. Training.We need to normalize awareness, not bury it.We need recovery to be as visible as the next powder day advertisement.
Drew is nearly six years sober. He talks about it openly because someone needs to.
Running for His Life: Leadville and the “Why”
Most people know Drew as a professional skier featured in movies, industry ads and magazine covers. But many also know him through his film “Feel It All,” which follows his attempt to run the Leadville 100 while threading his mental health story throughout.
This year he ran Leadville again his fourth time and described it as the most fun he’s ever had running 100 miles, at 10,000 feet above sea level. (Fun?)
He also described the evolution of his “why”:
* One race was an act of self-love.
* Another was about being a vessel of love.
* All of it was about learning to love himself after years of hating himself “to his absolute core.”
Near the end of our conversation, he said something I want to carve into the top of every trailhead sign in Colorado:
“Simply by being human beings on this planet… we are all deserving of and worthy of love.”
Schools, Youth, and the Moment That Defined His Purpose
Drew has been pouring an enormous amount of energy into speaking at schools. Middle schools. High schools. Universities. Meeting Hope Squads, students nominated by peers to lead suicide-prevention programs.
In one high school gym in Idaho, Drew stood in front of 1,300 students with his film playing on the scoreboard.
He told me that during a moment in the film where he talks openly about suicidal thoughts, he looked around at those kids and felt something snap into place:
“That is the exact moment. That is my purpose on earth. It’s why I didn’t kill myself.”
That’s what resonance looks like.That’s what impact looks like.That’s what purpose looks like.
Drew lives it everyday for everyone struggling with mental health issues.
Above the Treeline: The Metaphor We Share
Toward the end, we talked about the metaphor that’s shaped both of our work.
For me, Above the Treeline is about perspective getting out of the dense forest of life and seeing clearly again.
For Drew, it’s literal. When he moved to Carbondale, the first thing he knew he needed to do was climb Mount Sopris. Peaks are places of ceremony, clarity, and transition for him.
He told me:
“Being in the alpine is where life feels the most vibrant. Where perspective shifts.”
That’s why I’m using one of his photos in the opening my keynote, a shot of him climbing a snowy ridge above the green summer valley floor. It forces people to look differently at the story I’m telling. And that’s the point.
We have to get Above The Treeline to see where we are.And sometimes to see where we’re going.And sometimes just to see that we’re not alone.
Closing Thoughts: As the Snow Falls
The ski season is beginning. We’ll wax skis, check avalanche gear, line up first chair. We’ll chase the storms, the turns, the bluebird days.
But let’s also check in with each other.
Look for changes.Ask questions.Notice silence.Reach out.Share your own story when you can.Use Drew’s story when you can’t.
And remember Drew’s final reminder:
We are all deserving of love.We are all worthy of love.No qualifier required.
Thanks to Drew for the honesty, the humor, the humanity, and for the work he does on and off the mountain.
When the snow finally starts to fly here in Colorado, I’ll head to Aspen and take Drew up on his offer: a chairlift conversation, some turns, and a big wide groomer to “let ’er rip.”
Stay safe out there.Stay connected.
And most of all stay Above The Treeline.