We all have things we really enjoy doing. Sometimes they are so enjoyable that we cannot picture ourselves ever not doing them. All good things though, come to an end. I did not know it at the time, but my end of Telemark Skiing, came in January of 1995.
I was sent up to Calgary, Alberta province, Canada to help with a software install and training needed by Alberta Government Telephone. So, I arranged to fly up early and spend the weekend skiing up in Banff National Park at the Sunshine Village Ski Resort. It was an enjoyable day at high elevation skiing in and out of low clouds. One minute you were in warm bright sunshine, and the next in a gray fog of swirling snow and ice crystals. In the afternoon, I rode the gondola back to the base area. That was it, the last time I skied.
I became a single parent, living in Michigan, and no longer had the time to ski. Years passed, and I lost mobility in my right leg, and realized at a point, that I would never ski again. All the skis and winter gear were put up on shelves in the garage and forgotten.
Now, 26 years later, I am wondering if I can ski after all. I have planned a trip to Colorado next month to ski with my son Tyler. But, after all that time, is there any muscle memory left for that activity? Do I have the strength (think deep knee bends and lunges from the top of a mountain to the bottom)? So last night, I headed over to the small local ski area to find out.
First, I was able to throw the cable binding cam on my boot and attach the retention strap. Before March, I could not even tie my shoe, too far to bend. A small victory. Then I made it down to the first lift line without falling over, victory number 2. I was wobbly though and balance needed work. When you get old, your muscle reaction time slows, I guess. I rode the lift to the top and then came victory number 3, getting off the chair lift before it ran me over.
Moment of Truth…
I turned the skis down the fall line and pushed off. Then tentatively initiated the first turn, and was instantly reminded, “YOU CANNOT BE TENTATIVE”, wobbled around and came to a stop. I started again, but now the other direction, onto the hitherto weak leg, over corrected and fell on my butt. I remembered another tip learned many years ago. A Telemark turn is a perfect blend of fore and aft weight distribution while edging the metal edged skis to the inside arc so that they are forced into a large curve. The tip you need to make that happen, is a special kind of muscle coordination. You pretend you have a 5-dollar bill in your butt crack, and you don’t want it to fall out and lose it, i.e. you squeeze your glute muscles. In case you forget that tip, you can also make a “Vroooom” sound like a race car going around an outside curve. Do not laugh, it works for some reason, and I did not make that up. I was told that by an exceptionally good skier, many years ago.
Anyway, I had just crossed a big hurdle. I fell, and it did not hurt. There was no dislocated hip joint. So, I inked two turns, victory number 4. A few more turns and I was at the bottom. So, I climbed back on the lift. The second time down, I discovered that maybe my balance was not all that bad, but rather the horrible midwestern man-made snow was like trying to ski on greased marbles. I blamed this on global climate change (lack of real snow). I made a few turns and found myself again on my butt. Then I discovered something new, a whole raft of little teenage girls all on snowboards and downhill skis. They were all stopped halfway down the hill whispering, “what kind of skiing is that old man doing? Oops! He is down. Do you think he is dead?” I started looking around to see who they were talking about. I never saw who it was, so I got up off the snow and linked a few more turns down to the bottom.
So, yes, after 26 years, just like riding a bicycle, the nerve synapses grown by endless repetitions, still exist, and still carry a charge. When you do something, you love after a long, long time, a tear or two of happiness might roll down your cheek. You just wish it did not happen at 20 degrees Fahrenheit, on the dark, after sundown side, of a hill in Michigan. Good way to get frostbite.
On to Colorado…
Starting All Over 