Author: Jason Preston
Whenever I think about skiing, a quote comes to mind from the 1985 John Cusack flick Better off Dead: “Go that way, really fast. If something gets in your way, turn.”
I recently took a vacation to go skiing, and spent three days hurtling downhill at speeds meant for a racetrack. Only after several hours in a hot tub did the feeling returned to my bruised legs.
The general idea behind this sport, as I understand it, is to point your skis downward, and then hang on for dear life. Speed limits do not apply to ski slopes, and I suggest you acknowledge this accordingly.
Even before you get on the snow, there’s a fair amount of equipment you’ll need. The skis are a must, of course, but so are the boots, which have been designed to cut off blood to your feet. You carry poles so that when you fall down it looks funnier.
Falling down is an important part of skiing, so when you’re putting on layers in the morning, make sure to pad yourself in the areas where you’ll cause yourself the most damage: your chest, your shoulders, your face. Your hands will be fine, and your feet may as well be sealed in concrete, so I wouldn’t worry too much about them.
Foot warmers are important, though-almost as important as hand warmers. These two scientific miracles will keep your extremities from discovering new kinds of frostbite throughout the day, even though packing the warmers inside will give each glove its own hot pocket.
Skiing is also unsexy. It’s virtually impossible to take a person, add two skis, two poles, and two leg clamps, and then expect to see anything graceful. I think professional skiers have simply accepted this fact, and so they wear colorful spandex to distract everyone from how much they look like a neon spider. After much trial and error, I’ve discovered that the trick to turning is to lift the back ski and twist-so that you are suddenly facing the wrong direction. Eventually physics will catch up with you and you’ll find yourself barreling merrily along in the other direction.
It turns out that skiing is really just doing this for hours on end, with occasional breaks to ride back up the mountain on a lift, or to collect your poles from the passing snowboarder you accidentally stabbed.
Beware of lodgings that advertise “ski-on, ski-off” access to the slopes. More often than not this refers to some winding, treacherous, tree-ridden path that few, if any, skiers can navigate. In these cases it’s best to hike it in boots, putting skis on once you make it to one end or the other.
Above all else, do not go into the trees. “New! Gladed Skiing,” the sign announces, and then just below is the name of the run: “Where’s Joe?”
It may be fine for snowboarders to weave their way between the trunks; they have two different ways to go forward. A skier can go backwards, and I discovered that it happens constantly when you’re trying to avoid face-planting into bark. Going backwards downhill on skis in a forest is something to be . . . avoided.
Even facing the right direction, threading trees can be tricky. Fitting between them means pointing your skis downward, and that will put things in your way really fast. It’s while you’re forgetting to turn that you wonder how the run got its name.
Also, do not cut in line. At the bottom of each run you’ll find a crowd waiting for each chair-lift, and if you’ve just skied for five minutes, waiting fifteen really burns. The only thing worse is watching some jerk skip ahead to the front. No matter how good you are, you are not the best skier in line. And if you cut the wrong person off, you’ll find them skiing right towards you, poles at jousting height, incredibly fast.
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