A burning question came through on a group chat last week. “Would you use a Deer Valley ticket for a Bumble date?”

The replies from the rest of the girls started coming in hot.

“Depends. Is he Epic or Ikon?”

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“I’d meet up for a few laps, but definitely not for a whole day. What if he’s a dick?”

“Yeah, I had a date with a guy who wouldn’t talk to me on the lift because I skied faster than him.”

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“I went on a first ski date to Canyons and the guy wasn’t wearing a helmet — a dealbreaker. Especially since I’d forgotten my helmet that day and actually rented one. Would’ve been a major fail if I’d used a DV pass.”

If you live in Park City — or any ski town for that matter — chances are you have a ski date story or two. Or 10.

I decided to put the question out to a bunch of friends and friends of friends, male and female, straight and gay, married and single. The stories that follow are true. But the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

Epic fail or iconic bumble?

I met this guy and we spent two days snowboarding together. He was like, “Let’s wake up and wait in the red snake together, hold hands riding down the mountain into the sunset, cook food in the back of our cars.” Then he ghosted. Guess that’s what he tells all the girls on Bumble.

Smokin’ hot

Best ski date ever — did the deed in the smoke shack at Snowbird under a full moon. We put first tracks down making our way back to the car. And I won a bet.

Bladerunner

My buddy Brice made the mistake of marrying a gal before they went on their first ski date. She shows up to the date wearing a pair of snowblades. #IYKYK. Yeah, they’re still married. But only because she converted.

Pump the brakes.

First date, ski date and we’re riding up the lift after a super-gnarly line. I commented that you really had to commit to get through that run. He was like, “Speaking of commitment, what’s your relationship status?” I’m like, “Dude, we’ve only skied two runs.”

Triple dipper

I met three guys on Hinge and ended up on a ski date with all three on the same day. I mean, not all at once, but yeah, definitely took some time management.

Dropping in 3, 2, 1…

I had a first date with this New England ex-racer. That meant tightening at the top and loosening at the bottom. Every. Time. And the pants stayed rolled up. On the first chair, he told me how hungover he was because he’d had too many espresso martinis…that turned into wine back at his place — basically telling me about his last Tinder date. First chair was Dreamscape. Soooo slow.

Snow-ghosted

I met her at No Name and took her skiing on our first date. She seemed nervous, but I chalked it up to first-date stuff. I got down the run and looked back up. She was nowhere to be found. Months later, I ran into her again and she admitted she’d disappeared because she was too embarrassed to ski in front of me. That’s when I realized I didn’t care how she skied. I just wanted to spend time with her.

Well, this is awkward

We met for our first date at Canyons. As we were exchanging that awkward first hug at the base of the gondola, he says, “I thought you were a member of the tribe. You looked Jewish in your photos.” He was clearly disappointed I wasn’t. Then he was a terrible skier and I left him at Peak 5.

#Skimobro

Went on a ski tour with this cutie from Hinge. I told her I had a cat and she says she doesn’t date guys with pets. She also says she like to tour as hard and fast as she can uphill til she pukes. Hard pass.

Ski the east

I dated two skiers when I was a freshman in Boulder. One of them lived with a senior who was a racer from Stowe. I continued to date the two ski dudes, but the Vermont racer stayed in my mind. He showed up again in Boulder the following year and we’re still together 36 years later.

Dress for success

It wasn’t a first date, but we did it in the gondola. Pro tip: all gondy rides are at least eight to 12 minutes. Plenty of time — unless you’re wearing a onesie.

Never on the first date

Guys on dating apps always want to know your ski level. I mean, like what are you, an X-Games champion? How would they feel if I needed them to be an Ashtanga yogi like me who can stand up with a leg behind their head? I tell them I don’t ski with people I’ve never met before. I mean, unless it’s on PayDay.

All of these stories got me thinking about my own favorite ski date story. I’d just moved to Park City and basically knew no one. I met a dude online and we had our first date at Park City Mountain. He absolutely ripped and I was totally smitten. That’s when his posse showed up — a bunch of lady rippers who spent the rest of the date skiing with us. I was like, what the hell?

Long story short: the dude and I didn’t last, but those slaydies became my PC ski crew and some of my best friends in Park City.

Not all love stories end the way you want them to. And that’s fine with me.