Back on skis: 2011 edition
If your snowboarding gets a little stale (that’s never going to happen, right?), you might consider spending some time on skis.
According to the National Sporting Goods Association, 20 percent of snowboarders are skiers, and 18 percent of skiers are snowboarders, so there’s some healthy cross-training activity going on. Trying out (or going back to) skiing can give you the opportunity to overcome a new challenge, which is what sends many people into snowboarding in the first place.
I started snowboarding eight years ago because skiing on my a little bump of 300 vertical feet lost its appeal pretty quickly. I thought that taking up snowboarding would make the hill a challenge once again. And you know what? I was right.
For several years after that, I only went snowboarding, and kept the skis in the closet. Then one year I took the skis out for a day, and decided I didn’t want to lose the ability to ski. So every season since then, I’ve taken my skis out a few times. Last week, I spent two different days (a total of 10 hours) on skis at my local bump hill. It wasn’t like learning to ski as a never-ever, but it did take me back to the days of being an advanced beginner.
I spent the first couple of hours on two of the easiest slopes, concentrating on making big, sweeping turns. Then I mixed in a slightly steeper slope, and with that came a new level of challenge. (Did I mention that you have to like challenges and not be afraid of being a beginner to switch up equipment?) Left-hand turns were easy; right-hand turns were not. In fact, I was in the grip of fear. What if I couldn’t complete the turn and started sliding downhill, out of control at an advancing rate of speed? Would I crash and injure my knee in the process?
Memories of the way we were. I briefly thought that a lesson might be required.
But I kept going, using my part-turn, part-snowplow maneuver to get to the next lift, which then took me to some slopes with long, fairly flat runs that finished off with lips that were not too steep. Or so I thought. Once confronted with making a right-hand-turn on the lip for the first time, I hesitated. I slide slipped, started a turn, slide slipped, and stopped again. Then I dismounted, turned my skis around, and skied off without having made a proper turn. Foiled by a left foot that had grown to 160cm, and a leg that was immobilized as far as lateral movements go. So I went back to the novice slopes and started again.
Eventually the right-hand turns started coming back. They weren’t ideal, but they were coming back. New snow started falling, and the lights came on for night skiing. Both factors seemed to put me in a zone. I was very briefly transported back, at least in my mind, to Elk Camp, a fine set of intermediate slopes at Snowmass. And then a little bubble of joy went off inside: “Yes. This is why I liked skiing!” My legs, skis, the slope, and gravity were working together to give an adrenaline rush for doing something that is at once dangerous and perfectly safe, irrational and logical.
Two days later I returned, and spent the morning on my snowboard. It was good to be back in my element, but it didn’t take long to cover all the interesting terrain on the board. Variety is something that’s important to me, so it was time to exchange the board for skis. Being on skis made the hill new again. Next up: running the NASTAR course on a snowboard, and then on skis.