I Wish I Was A Ski Bum

I first learned to ski ten years ago.  It was during a day trip to our local mountain, Snow Summit, and I happily pointed my wedge (aka pizza slice) all the way down the mountain.  As a beginner I was over the moon that I could: (a) get off the lift without hurting myself, and (b) get down the mountain without hurting myself (via wedge and the emergency sit-down method).  I would occasionally visit Snow Summit and Big Bear over the years, never for more than a day, and ski my little heart out.  I would be happy if at the end of the day I could make it down the mountain.  Over time it became apparent to me that the wedge was not enough – that in order to really enjoy skiing I would need to improve (gulp).   And ski more than the beginner runs.

It all began in 2006.  Rene and I went to Big Bear for the weekend and skied for two consecutive days.  We were still beginners but had improved: we could ski from the top of the mountain, and were beginning to use the hockey stop instead of the dreaded wedge.  Two weeks later we visited Whistler (site of the 2010 Olympic Games) and had a blast.   We picked up skiing again this year because of my good friend Erin, who is an awesome skier.  We spent a few days at Mammoth with her and her hubby Jeff over Thanksgiving weekend, learning how to ski again, and miraculously, getting better.  So much so that by the end of the weekend Rene and I were skiing mostly intermediate runs, with a few advanced intermediate runs thrown in the mix.  That’s when the ski bug bit us. 

We just came back from a five-day trip to Park City, UT on MLK weekend and it was awesome.  For five whole days Rene and I skied our little hearts out – we were out there everyday, taking some nasty falls (and a face plant for me) but getting better.  By now we are pretty solid intermediate skiers ready to go to the next level.  I am amazed by the amount of progress we’ve made just from two trips this winter.  Erin says that it takes consecutive days of skiing to get better and I couldn’t agree more.  I feel like I spent the first two or three days in Park City learning how to ski again (I fell during our first run on the mountain and almost cried when it took me over 20 minutes to snap my skis back on.  It was horrible.) then the last two days getting better. 

I learned two things in Park City:

1. Once you have The Fear it is hard to shake it off.
2. Always ski with your hands in front of you like a boxer. (Technique taught by Jeff that has improved my skiing tremendously, resulting in no more hard spills.)

The Fear is when you are on the precipice of a steep hill and you hesitate before coming down the mountain.  The Fear happens when you look down and struggle with how you will make it down the mountain.  It happens to all levels, according to Erin, and for me it’s a mistrust of my ability and equipment: will I be able to stop?  Will I be able to stop if someone gets in front of me?  What if my skis accidentally cross and I fall?  After these questions went through my head I started to second-guess myself, and became a really big wuss in the process.  What’s worse is that I became a self-fulfilling prophecy whenever this happened.  I did have a hard time stopping, and I did fall.  It was only towards the end of the trip that I realized I should stop thinking about it and just do it.  Tackle the hills, get into a rhythm, and enjoy the moment.  That’s when it became really, really fun.

*****

If you’ve ever seen a Utah license plate it says “Best Snow On Earth.”  Utah does have some wonderful snow – it’s the best I’ve ever come across – and a ton of ski resorts within an hour of Salt Lake City.  We booked a two-bedroom condo in Park City, just a block from the Park City Resort (site of the 2002 Winter Olympics).  There were two other resorts within five miles: Deer Valley and The Canyons.  We only visited Park City and Deer Valley during our stay.

Of the two I was really looking forward to Deer Valley.  My friend Erin had raved about its twice-groomed runs and skiers-only policy.  It is the #1 rated North American Resort by Ski Magazine, and has some fancy lodges to back up that title.  Erin’s dad calls it “very Republican,” meaning it’s swanky and mostly affluent people and their families ski there.  It’s also a skiers-only resort, meaning no snowboarders allowed.  

Apparently I was not Republican enough during my first visit to Deer Valley.  After riding the bus to the resort, we had to cross a line of cars dropping off passengers in order to get to the ticket office.  While crossing one of my boots tapped the hood of a BMW – the driver was too close to the car in front of her, and I inadvertently tapped her car because of the tiny space and all the equipment I was carrying (skis, boots, poles, etc.).  Keep in mind that all this equipment is heavy and bulky.  Right after we crossed the line of cars I heard yelling in the background, and Rene said I that I hit the BMW with my boot and the driver was really mad.  I didn’t think anything of it – I didn’t even bother to look back – and shrugged it off.  I mean, come on, it was a TAP – she   was overreacting. 

Not two minutes later, as we waited for Erin to get our lift tickets, a blonde woman came up to Rene and said loudly so everyone could hear, “Excuse me, when you hit a NICE BMW you say sorry.”  I guess she was expecting us to apologize but Rene just gave her a blank stare and she stormed off.  I wanted to say something back but I’m hopeless in these situations and couldn’t think of anything snappy to say.  So all day long Erin and I kept thinking of snappy comebacks like “Maybe when you have a 5- or 7- Series I’ll say sorry – maybe” (The lady had a 3-Series BMW that was a few years old) and “So if you had a Honda or Toyota I don’t have to say sorry to you?”  We played it up the whole day.  The situation was ridiculous, really, and the lady only made herself mad by getting out of her car and demanding an apology.  I am a little sorry for tapping her car but her huffy attitude made me adamant about not apologizing.  She treated us like we had never seen a BMW and had no clue how much they cost.  They are a dime a dozen here in LA, and we couldn’t care less about them.  Just because a person drives a BMW doesn’t mean they’re important in my eyes, and that’s the feeling I got from her: that she was entitled to an apology because she was driving a NICE BMW.  Please!

Thankfully that little incident did not ruin my visit to Deer Valley.  We had a great time at the slopes:

(More pictures here.)

Everyone else, apart from BMW lady, was very nice.  While we were in Park City the Sundance Film Festival kicked off, and it was fun listening to the pissing-contest conversations all over town.  A lot of Hollywood-types would play up their connections, or compare film festivals, and we found ourselves making fun of these people over and over again.  Not all LA residents are self-absorbed, self-important weasels but I can see where the stereotype comes from.  I was hoping to catch a celebrity or two wandering Main Street but all I got was Scott Wolf from Party of Five, wearing a helmet and ski boots at the Deer Valley Lodge.  Hey, at least I didn’t go home empty-handed.

*****

Now that I’m home I am missing the slopes of Park City terribly.  I am missing days of waking up and having nothing to do but ski all day long. *Sigh* I am counting the days to the next ski trip, this time a day trip to Mt. High in February.  I am hoping this tan line on my face fades before then:

That’s what I get for wearing such big sunglasses.