Several Reasons Not To Be A Ski Instructor

Alexandra's post, the ones with pictures of our overcast day, hinted at the tribulations of our ski instructor, Ben. I was there, so let me give you the full picture.

Jeremy and James are enthusiastic skiers, but (like many of us) still wanting on judgement, skill, and experience. They want all the off-piste bumps and jumps they can get, no matter if unseasonably warm weather has turned the snow into wet, sticky cement. Today was definitely one of those days where only the groomed slopes were skiable. What do you tell boys who are used to spicing up every run with meanderings off the side of the trail?

After we split off from the others Ben took us down a trail or two uneventfully. I needed to work on my usual pole-plant timing and keeping my weight forward, Ashley had her things, and the boys were working on rounding off their turns instead of zig-zagging like pinballs.

Then we got to the T-bar. For those non-skiers among you, or those who have never skied a resort that still runs them, a T-bar is a surface lift (meaning that you stand in your skis instead of sitting on a chair) where you and a partner have a T-shaped bar put between you and behind your rears. The bar is attached to an overhead tow cable, so as the slack comes off you are pulled up the slope.

Remember that you are still on your skis. If you cross them, or veer to the side, or generally goof off in any way, you will fall, the T will go twanging off up the slope, and you will have no choice but to ski back down the lift line in ignominy. Same story if you try to sit on the T. It pulls you by your bottom. It does not support you.

Can we handle it? Of course we can! While Ben explains the details to the boys, Ashley and I manage to load without falling. But we were only 100 meters up the slope before the line stopped. Yep, that would be James. When he did not load successfully, they had to stop the lift to pick him up and get him started. Off again...and another stop. Yup, Jeremy this time. But you know, those lifts are tricky and the only skiers that haven't fallen on some sort of lift are the ones that have never actually skied. Other than Jeremy getting off a yard short of the exit and having to struggle uphill to the slope, the rest of the trip up was a perfect success.

One nice run, a chair lift, and an unbelievable panoramic view of the Alps later, we had a long run out back to Morgins. Normally, Ben told me, this was icy enough that you could fly and it was no big deal. Today, however, we had the aforementioned wet concrete. It wasn't a big deal for me because I am heavy enough to keep moving. Jeremy and James had to keep poling, and we had to stop repeatedly to wait while they caught up. This was a long run out, and not one of the best parts of our lesson.

One more lift and run, and Ben thought we should repeat a particular slope--he had some drill he wanted to try--and that meant taking the button lift. A button lift is like a T-bar lift except that it is one person only. Instead of a T, the pull-rod ends in a disk about 5 inches across: the "button". You put it between your legs and are once again pulled by your bottom. All the same techniques and cautions of the T-bar apply, this time with a helpful "no slaloming" sign at the bottom of the lift.

Want to place any bets?

Jeremy was first on, and was off successfully. Could he hold his concentration for the whole 10 minutes? Next up, Ashley. Like a pro! Now James. No, James, you can't sit on it! He got up just in time to go flying. Ok, let's try again. Another button with Ben's help, and, "Sproing!". James went flying again, this time losing a ski. From my observation his weight is similar to the strength of the spring that is supposed to ease you up to speed, and he actually left the ground as it jerked him from standing to full speed. At this point they stopped the lift, put James together, set him up, and eased it back up to speed. Now I just had to load and follow them up the hill. What, do you think I fell? Not this time! I learned a little from watching James.

Halfway up I ran across Jeremy putting his ski back on. It seems he caught an edge while playing. All I could do was to ride on past. There isn't a way to load one of these lifts halfway up and James and Ashley would soon be waiting at the top. Well, Ashley, anyway. Three-quarters of the way up I got to James. No explanation there. By now I was resigned to our having to waste a run picking everyone back up.

A few minutes later Ben, Ashley, and I were at the top. We skied down to the cross trail where James fell off, then Ben skied down the lift line to get Jeremy while the rest of us took another trail that led to the bottom. "Very simple", said Ben, "Just take the right fork". So of course Ashley missed that and had to struggle back up to where James and I were waiting.

We never did find out what that drill was going to be, because by now it was time to make the run to the bottom to meet the others and end the lesson. Past time, even.

The last stretch down to the bottom is a road with a few switchbacks. Ben was leading the way, so he didn't get to see Jeremy mess up the first switchback--he explained that he was trying to keep his speed--and go flying over the edge. I didn't see Jeremy land because it is a dramatic drop off, but I did see the safety net suddenly sag.

Jeremy was 10 feet down in a crumpled ball with one ski through the net. Sigh. At least he wasn't hurt. Without the net he would have been 20 feet down smashed on a tree. I took off my skis, traversed over to him from further downhill, freed him from his skis, led him back across the traverse, and pulled him back up onto the slope. Slowly. Through hip-deep, heavy snow.

I am not sure that Ben would accept another lesson with us...

Michael