Funny Article about Amateur Skiing

This article made me laugh, and think of Casey...

Survival Tips for the Occasional Skier

by Rich Maloof

When the telephone rings at 5 a.m., it can only mean one of two things: Someone is calling with terrible news, or someone is calling to say they’re on time to pick you up for a day of skiing. For some, it’s a fine line.

Winters are for sleeping through, as any bear will tell you, and in truth it’s downright unnatural to leave the warmth of your cave for a day—a day off, no less—out in the arctic weather. With your coffee in hand and your long johns already riding too high, you weigh the pros and cons. Pro: Skiing is an opportunity to challenge nature, test gravity and push your athletic limits. Con: You could be fitted for a wheelchair by lunch time. It’s a delicate balance.

A three-hour drive in six layers of clothes is nobody’s idea of a good time, but they put the mountains far away so you have time to rethink these things. You may very well decide the money it costs to go skiing would be better spent chartering a plane to fly someplace warm. But for those intrepid novices headed downhill fast, we’ve consulted the Skier’s Responsibility Code and revised it with the following list of crucial survival tips.

Official and Not-So-Official Guidelines for Reluctant Skiers

Cut the rental line. You didn’t come all this way to wait for little Brandon to whine through his boot fittings. Buy a ski patrol hat and move authoritatively to the front of the line. (NOTE: Another option is to pretend you’re disabled. Blind skiers enjoy all kinds of perks.)

Don’t ski under the chairs. By choosing trails that aren’t under the lift, no one will have a vulture’s eye-view of your technique-free skiing. You stand less chance of being laughed at by children in helmets. Also, there are none of those pesky lift poles.

Know the Snowplow. Ask a knowledgeable skier about the classic snowplow move, which involves pointing your ski tips together to slow down and shifting your weight to turn. It’s not the best look but it beats tobogganing down the mountain in a stretcher.

Be a man. When you spill, brush yourself off and point your boards back downhill. Don’t blame the ice or the gear or the weather. Everybody appreciates the guy who can take the fall of falls and resume his suicide run while the ice crystals are still frozen in his nose hairs. Speaking of which …

Blow your nose occasionally.

Know your trail map. You have to read between the lines on trail names. Walk-a-Long, Mosey and Daydream are flat, featureless trails for beginners, marked by green circles. Double-diamonds, the toughest trails on the mountain, usually provide subtle hints in names like Plunge, Final Prayer, Nose Dive and Compound Fracture.

Do not stop in the middle of a trail. People who stop to look at the scenery are called gapers. People who stop to look at the scenery from the downhill side of a mogul are called morons.

Don’t ski down the mountain — ski across the mountain. Gravity wants to send you down the fastest possible route whether your ski bottoms are on the mountain or facing the sky. If you get stuck on a steep passage, snowplow across the trail in long, slow traverses.

Use devices to help prevent runaway equipment. For years, skiers used straps that were tied to a ski and then around the ankle. The great thing about these was that if you did fall, the ski had several opportunities to windmill around again and again to slam you in the face and snap each leg. It was like falling down the stairs while being beaten with a rod. Those were the days.

The lodge is your friend. Tell your friends you need to carve some solo tracks, or just ski off in a different direction than you’d all initially agreed upon. Then go park it at the lodge. Whenever possible, use the one at the top of the mountain; it’s better than hanging out in the base lodge with the grandmothers and infants. Give yourself just enough time to get to the bottom of the mountain before your lift ticket expires, find your friends and proceed with …

The Après Ski Victory Lap

Never, ever does beer taste better than after a day of “skiing.” It’s not just a drink, it’s a bronze medal. Go somewhere loud, somewhere full of skiers with flushed-red faces and heads of painfully matted hair. Whether your reward is a Guinness or a hot toddy, a tequila shot or a hot buttered rum, they are all liquid pillows that heal your bruises, mollify your ego and warm your core. Order your mozzarella sticks and lie, lie, lie about doing back scratches, skiing the glades and all the time you spent in the air.

There in the warmth of the second round, you’ll realize you couldn’t really ask more from a winter’s day. A little while later you crunch across the parking lot, your feet so gracious to be in soft shoes, your muscles humming with satisfaction. The only thing better than a day of skiing is being done with a day of skiing.

Rich Maloof has had mixed feelings about skiing since he fell of his first T-bar. He lives in Brooklyn, N.Y., and has written for CNN, Yahoo!, Billboard, MSN Health and the “For Dummies” book series.