Learning How To Ski - Part III

This is the conclusion of this series, where I share the experience of learning to ski for the first time.

So there I was, alone, riding the gondola back down to the base of Whistler mountain. I cursed the ill-fitted skis that forced me to depart from my beginner's lessons even before they had begun.

But then I noticed the peculiar clarity that arises from sitting by yourself in a gondola.

I watched as the pods packed with other fresh-faced skiers and boarders passed on their way up the slopes. I gazed out upon the beautiful blue sky and the glittering snow-caked peaks, and realized quickly that if the worst thing that happened to me today was missing 40 minutes of my ski lesson, I'd be lucky.

Turns out the guy at Whistler equipment rentals had simply made a mistake. He'd marked my boot size incorrectly. After apologizing profusely, he resized the skis lickety split -- and as fast as you can say "Is that a drunk Aussie wearing nothing but a cape and underwear?" I was back up to mid-station and learning how to side-step in skis.

Mike, my AlluraDirect.com colleague also in beginner's lessons, revealed I hadn't missed much. "You step with this ski, then with this ski. That's it." No problem.

Our ski instructor Maggie had us move on to the aptly named "snowplow; the only way a newbie will be able to stop once they start sliding. Basically, the technique involves spreading your legs while pointing your skis inwards, creating a pizza shape that effectively plows the snow until you stop. (I would later learn that 'snowplow' only works when you're skiing under 3mph).

Learning the snowplow took until lunch, when we broke and headed up to the Roundhouse at Whister's Peak. Some stunning views and a $15 rice bowl later, Mike and I had joined up with the rest of our team and attempted our next skill – the "Knee Touch and Turn."

Here's how it works: start sliding, when you want to turn, touch both hands to your knee, turn, slide, repeat. Looks a bit funny in practice but surprisingly, you actually turn -- albeit ever so slowly and with an arc the size of a SUV.

From there we practiced regular turning, which including the lean but without touching your hands to your knee. Brilliant.

But 3pm the sun was retiring behind the peak and casting long shadows on our beginner's training snow. Maggie gathered us all together and praised us as the most competent group she'd ever instructed (I'll bet she tells that to all her beginner's).

Mike and I, confident in our newfound abilities, were dying to actually try a run with some speed.

"Would it be okay if we hitched a ride up the Olympic Chair?" we asked. She shook her head with an emphatic, "No! I do not recommend it. It's too dangerous for you to go up there as beginner's. If you like, you can stay in the flat area and continue practicing."

We asked her if we could at least ski down to the Whistler base. Again, she shook her head, "That's even worse! You have skiers and boarders racing down that run like crazy. I strongly ask you to take the gondola down when you're done." With that, she left us.

Defeated, Mike and I decided to stick around in the beginner's area. Only problem, we discovered they'd closed the magic carpet that whisked us to the top of the slight incline. Now we couldn't even practice the easy part.

We turned to each other. "Olympic chair?" We nodded.

Moments later we were sitting in our first ski lift, our legs dangling above the snow. I unabashedly buzzed with anticipation. Our first green run. How exciting!

The end of the lift deposited us at the top of the slope. Far below, our beginner's area seemed miniscule compared to the snowy hills we'd have to navigate to get back to it. "You ready?" Mike asked.

"Let's do this." I replied, with all the necessary bravado.

We leapt off into the unknown, and suddenly I was skiing – not like a beginner learning to ski, but as an actual skier, molding my form to the slopes, following its curves, navigating the dips, skimming the powder.

In a word: magnificent.

Immediately I was hooked. We skied back to the beginner's training area, with the mid-mountain gondola humming patiently. I moved to unlatch my skies.

"You sure you don't want to ski down?" asked Mike.

"Really? You think this is an easy run?" I said, slightly skeptical, with Maggie's warning still fresh in my mind.

"No problem. I watched some other skiers head down their and we're better than them for sure." Mike made a convincing argument. Either that or I was still blissfully unaware of just how fast someone can go when staring down an actual slope.

"Okay," I made up my mind. We gathered our resolve and crept to the edge of the run to the Whistler Base. Wow, it seemed much steeper from our new position. My heart anticipated the coming exertion.

"Let's do this."