January 1977 - Learning to Ski Part II

 In The Beginning

At dinner in the Common Room that first night we'd reunited with the Jersey firefighters and learned where we should go the next day...where the beginners go. Earlier in the day we'd looked at the map and it was overwhelming. I don't remember how many mountains and ski lifts and lodges and on and on and on there were, but it was a lot. Fortunately, the bunny slope was just a short walk from our house. The slopes opened around 9 if I remember correctly. We had our hard rolls and coffee, got my skis and headed for the slopes.

We arrived at a very busy place, one that we didn't understand at all. Rocky found a place to rent boots and skis. I figured out how to put my boots on. The Exchange had put on the binders and showed me how to click my boots into them so I felt ready! We asked where the bunny slope was although we felt we could probably skip that, after all, we were in our late 20s and in reasonably good shape! The snow was deep, probably two feet of fresh snow on the bunny slope. And then we discovered the evil rope tow.

The rope tow looked simple enough. The thing was literally a rope and every six feet or so was a banana shaped thing attached to the rope. You'd stand next to the moving rope and when one of the bananas came close to you, you'd swing it up under your butt and let it push you up the hill. Way, way easier said than done and within half an hour Rocky and I were so embarrassed at our progress (which was zero) we took a break. We asked other people, we watched other people and we tried, tried, and tried again. We fell and fell and fell and fell and fell. Then we had lunch. Mulled wine. Superb! And now we were braver. Back to the bunny slope. Back to eating snow. We gave up.

 Jeff, The Brit

The day was ending and we were frazzled. Worn out, pummeled, humiliated. Somehow we managed to find a place that offered lessons to small groups of people. Rocky and I signed up for 6 days of lessons for a grand total of $60 each. What a bargain!! We were to meet our instructor, Jeff, the next day at the bunny slope. Hurray. I don't remember that night and in fact don't remember too many of the nights there. We were always so tired we didn't feel like going out (and it was a one mile walk). We'd have dinner, have some gleuvein and head for the rack.

The next day we met our first instructor, a British ex-pat named Jeff. He took one look at my skis and took me to the rental shop. My skis were 205cm, I rented 185s; longer skis are harder to control especially for rookies. Jeff had us on the bunny slope all day and by the end of that day, we were comfy on the slope. Jeff also had us each buy a lift pass. A two week pass cost us about $70 each and was good for all the slopes in Kitzbuhel, buses between the slopes, and the spas at night. What a deal!

The second day with Jeff started with discovering we were done with the bunny slope. We were headed for a chairlift and an "easy" slope. Jeff explained how to get on the chair and more importantly, how to get off the chair. I managed to get on just fine, getting off I fell and crashed into the group in front of me causing all of us to slide down the exit hill. Oh well.

By the end of the day, Jeff had us actually skiing and enjoying what we were doing. All of a sudden, we were having fun and not worried about the next turn, falling, or getting off the chair. During lessons, we'd typically stop for lunch around 11:30 and find a place to eat somewhere on the slopes. However, one day, Jeff told us that the World Cup Downhill was happening at a nearby mountain and that Franz Klammer, a world champion, was scheduled. We headed over there and got a great vantage point about halfway down the run. When Klammer came down the hill he was going so fast that it was literally breathtaking. I still remember the sense of awe seeing him fly by.

At the end of the third day of lessons, Jeff told us that we'd graduated from beginner level and were ready to go intermediate. Absolutely, I said to myself. Jeff said we'd meet our new instructor the next day.

Scary

For the next two days our Austrian instructor worked us hard, very hard. We learned about moguls, steep hills, deep powder, ice, and skiing through the forest. We skied hard and long and learned, often the hard way. Finally, the last day. Our group of 6 had shrunk to only 4. The instructor said that our last task was to go to the top of Kitzbuhel Horn mountain, the very last stop on the gondola, the top of the world and ski down at least twice. It took quite a while to get to the top, with several gondolas and lifts to navigate. We finally made it and could see Italy, Germany, and of course Austria. And then we skied down the mountain. It was steep, it was slick, it was scary. And exhilarating. We got halfway down the mountain complex and I told Rocky I was going back to the top. He declined and said he'd meet me at the bottom. 

And that's how I learned to ski.