Private Lesson, Group Price

February 15, 2005

Here’s one of the great “secrets” of a ski area: sign up for a lesson package for beginners. The long-range success of any ski area depends on the entry of new participants into the sports of skiing and snowboarding. And starting out in the sport—and staying with it—is easier and more certain if you take lessons. So it’s in the interest of ski areas to offer reduced prices for beginner’s lessons. Fortunately for you, it’s in your interest as well.

The outing two days go on Buttermilk West convinced me that I had achieved some measure of success, even while learning on the ice-hard surfaces of the Midwest. But it also seemed appropriate to take a lesson in “real snow,” with “real instructors,” if for no other reason than to have someone critique my technique and point out habits that may cause me trouble later on.

But which lesson to sign up for? Private lessons are too expensive, and there were two kinds of group lessons. One is geared for skill levels 5 and up; another is for skill levels 1 through 4. I thought that I was either a 4 or 5 level.

I presented my dilemma at the ski school window, and was told by an employee that I should try the “Beginner’s Magic” program, for levels 1 through 4. They segregate people by ability, she told me anyway, and besides, I stood a good chance at getting a private lesson anyway.

I signed up for that lesson, and debated on whether to take a quick run up to the top before taking the class, or wait until what seemed to be the awfully late starting time of 10 A.M. I chose to wait, and go into the class with my full energy. That was a good move.

I headed over to the waiting area, and I talked with a man who was there to drop off his child. He was a crossover skier who took up alpine snowboarding, and now was getting into freestyle. Alpine riding (the form of snowboarding that is closest to skiing) made a lot of sense years ago, he said, but now he was learning about freestyle (parks and pipe) because that’s where his son was heading.

A while ago, a 10-year old certified my board as “cool.” And now, this veteran skier turned snowboarder said that he liked my board as well. “Very sharp,” he said. Well, I’m glad we have the important things such as looks out of the way.

I then turned to Kim, one of the instructors who was standing around waiting for the appropriate start time. I asked him to look at my board—remember, I had bought it at a flea market and knew little about it. Kim leaned on the board, and said that it had a good amount of flex. For my skill level and interests, that’s probably a good thing.

He asked me about the riding experience I had, and I told him about riding on Buttermilk West. “You may end up having a private lesson,” he said.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” I told him.

THE LESSON
I took only a half-day lesson. In a way that was a pity; I could have gained a lot from spending a complete day with a top-notch instructor. On the other hand, my wife was leaving around lunch, and I had promised her father that I would spend the afternoon with him. Besides, I’m not sure how well I would have done under the watchful eye of an instructor for an entire day.

Yes, I realize that it’s silly to feel self-conscious in a lesson. After all, the purpose of taking a lesson is to exposure your weakness in front of someone who knows everything about the activity, and who can then give you ideas for improvement. But still, I was a bit nervous as we started heading down West again.

Actually, I rode pretty well during the first run. But then as he put me through different drills–hold onto your back pants leg, for example–I had to do things I was not familiar with, and so I fell a few times. That in turn feeds the self-consciousness: “I KNOW that I’m better than this.”

But that’s just something you have to overcome in a lesson. Accept that sometimes you have to get worse before you get better. Believe that a small amount of awkwardness now is worthwhile if it leads to better technique down the road. You may be able to “fake it” now, but your riding potential can be limited if you get down the mountain now using a technique that won’t work in, say, steeper terrain or more difficult snow conditions.

At the end of the time, we went into the restaurant for lunch. We reviewed the points my instructor had brought up during the lesson. I asked him what skill level he thought I was at. He said it was easily a 5. “You were misdiagnosed” at the ski school, he told me.

But with a one-on-one outing, it worked out just as well for me and, I suspect, him as well.