Is there a thread, even if not much in evidence lately, in which Divas could reminisce about their first time as an adult learner skier? (Childhood memories of that momentous event often are too distant to contain much detail). It seems there are a few adult newbies here and I would LOVE to exchange memories of how that first ever lesson(s) went.
Hello
@TiffAlt!
and thank you for replying. I wondered later if anyone would be inclined to share, because, apparently, in skiing forums attended by men there is almost no such thing as beginners, first lessons, adult learners, etc. Everybody comes to this world with the inborn knowledge of how to ski, so even if that knowledge must unfortunately wait until it can spread its wings, it will take the happy owner to black trails in no time, so what's to remember or write about.
But I personally love to think about those moments when I made my first, very nervous attempts and when I fell in love with the sport. It gives me plenty of pleasure to remember those first awkward moments, because no matter what I may think about my present level of skill, it is heartening to gauge the distance travelled.
I equally would not know which lesson to list as my first, because in my lifetime I made several attempts , all futile and discouraging. I don't know why I kept coming back to try again, but I did. The growing difficulty was the set up: I knew i was not going to go alone, but more proficient friends were not keen to take on a newbie and my DH, once a strong skier can never ski again after having suffered a bad accident (non skiing ). So I could not even see how to gauge the distance between ignorance and apprehension and finding myelf on skis.
Then a rare stroke of luck. My cousins suddenly said that they had plans to go skiing in Slovakia, and if I was still keen to learn, I could join them. That was November 2013 and we were planning on a March 2014 trip. All of a sudden all difficulties of last decades smoothed themselves out. My son who has instructor qualifications offered to accompany me, while my daughter and daughter in law both said they would also like to learn in one team. I know the warnings about not letting relatives teach you skiing, and they were sure proved right in case of my son and his wife (though fortunately no divorce ensued) , but otherwise we were fine. Being four meant that it made sense to rent a car to travel there and back, as well as rent a cottage for entire expedition of twelve people. To hedge my bets I decided not to rent my equipment, but to purchase second hand (if second! likely third or fourth maybe) skis, poles, boots and a helmet. That was a smart decision, because where we went we would not find it possible to rent locally.
Our destination was Zazriva, a village well distant from Slovak ski resorts, but there was an abundance of hills with drag lifts, button lifts and pomas in easy distance. It was quite springy though, and the snow in various stages of meltdown, creating a necessity for us of always seeking a slightly higher hill, where snow would still be in evidence, thus gradually and naturally transitioning from the first bunny slopes to something that looked like an actual (tiny) mountain (shown in pictures at the bottom).
I so remember that first day on snow. We loaded the car and my son Matthew warned everybody about always carrying our own equipment, a sound advice I abide by to this day, even if offered help. In the car the tense silence was so ominous, that Maciek had to remind us we were going to have fun. We arrived at a foot of an almost deserted little hill with just one or two toddler&Mom tandems, went through the initials (putting boots on, clicking ourselve in and out) and then sidestepped a little bit uphill (no magic carpet). To my utter amazement I saw myself making progress. First with snowplough braking, then with actually TURNING . All three of us fell a lot, but that wet snow was so cushiony, it did not feel remotely threatening. In addition we discovered that at the entrance there is an old wooden shack selling snacks and hot chocolate, which immediately felt more like having a ski holiday.
After that midday break, the sun started to turn our little bunny field into water, so we had to move further uphill, by means of a BUTTON LIFT. Now, was that a step up the ladder! In spite of my grave misgivings I found out there is nothing to it whatsoever, even though during my first upwards journey I did not yet understand I had to let go at a moment when the skis pointed downward, with a number of tumbledowns resulting. The rest of the afternoon was spent actually turning right and left in a wedge , then stopping, then getting on a lift again. I was completely transfixed with happiness. Here I was, actually TURNING and STOPPING and it was still only the first day?
That lesson ended when the sun operation became so intense that wet snow at the bottom turned into grassy mud and we had to move elsewhere. My head was spinning. Evidently, this time I got it! My daughter was already moving on to stem Christie turns, while my DiL, Zoe, was soon "nearly parallel". But, while Marta and me kept making ski trips every year, Zoe did not take to it. It remains to be seen if now, when my grandchildren have reached a learning to ski age, we will embark on that new chapter together.