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Friday, April 3, 2015

My Top 5 Skiing Pet Hates

Let me preface this post by saying I love skiing but here are my top 5 pet hates about the sport.

1) Foot Binding Ski Boots
I usually have to swap hire boots at least once on a trip. I once changed to a full size down when I thought my boots were too big. They felt fine in the store but on the slopes my feet swelled and my toes were jammed. I wasn't bothered going back to the ski shop and put up with the pain until I ended the day early. I switched back to my first pair of boots. Too big is better than too small. 

A week later my toenails turned black. Lesson learned is to go up to the nearest half size and to leave an inch of space above my toes when trying on boots. 

2) Blinding White Outs
If the mountains look like a blank sheet of paper, it's best to stay low where there are trees. And if you get eye floaters like I do, white outs make them worse. All I see is a worm infestation. They scatter away when I look at them and when I focus on something else, they come back. 

In a white out, what's off piste is anyone's guess and with strong winds, I wish I never got on the chairlift. The worst experience was in Nakiska, Canada where the winter Olympics was once held. 

It has the most treacherous runs I've come across. There was a slope of blue ice carved smooth by the wind. Suddenly a mighty gust almost blew me off the mountain. An angry cloud of snow swept towards me and I dug in my poles for dear life. You had to be an Olympian skier to enjoy that day. 

Good skiers are adapted to such conditions and are far less likely to freak out. These are the ones I use as guides down the mountain if I can keep up with them. I also get motion sickness or dizzy. Ever felt like throwing up while flying down an mountain?

3) Innocent Decisions That Backfire
I'm not a brave skier but sometimes I think I am. As a result I've made some bad decisions.

I fractured my arm in New Zealand when I took off my skis on my first black run. Rocks were in the way so I thought could just walk down instead. One slip and I went somersaulting faster than any speed I'd achieved on skis. I crashed into a rock and in a state of denial, I massaged my forearm thinking:"Why is my arm numb?"  After 5 minutes the endorphins wore off. Two kiwis rushed over and said my fall looked like something from Funniest Home Videos. 

Now I never take off my skis on a steep slope. They're the only things that will stop me from free falling. The only exception is when there's no snow to ski on. Like the time we took a ski route even though no one was on it. Chances are if no one is taking that ski route, there's a good reason.

4) Bad Techniques I Can't Shake Off 
I'd like to think that after many ski lessons, I can call myself a competent skier. But there's a difference between someone who can get down any slope and someone who's good at skiing. I envy those who ski with superb technique. I can't ski half the speed without looking like I've been dragged along by a go kart.

My body is rigid, positioned as if I'm on a motorcycle. If things get hairy, I revert back to old habits and resort to dragging my poles to slow down.

I watched a video of myself "bunny hopping" as I turn. I've skied over ten years and still can't do a decent carve turn!

5) Carrying Skis and Poles
Forget apres ski. I'd rather have a hot bath, cup of tea and spend the rest of the night in bed. At my age I need to recuperate for the next day of skiing. 

In Le Tania we stayed in a luxurious chalet that overlooked the valley. The catch was that unless you had a knack for skiing on patchy snow and gravel (a red run and part car park), you couldn't ski into the resort from the chalet. The walk down was 15 minutes and the streets were unforgivingly hilly. Once I thought it would be a good idea to ditch the street and walk up that red run to go home since it was far less distance. I expended far more energy carrying my skis up and  I never did it again.

Now I leave my gear at the ski shop if it's close to the chairlift. It worth paying that bit extra, especially for the joy of slipping into sheepskin boots right after a hard day of skiing.

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