EPISODE 4: Be careful who you ski with – it could damage you for life!
In my previous post – “Be kind to the woman you love”, I talked about how a woman’s first ski experience (yes, I said “ski” experience) can change the way one views the sport forever. How do I know this? Because I lived the experience.
After my disastrous “episodes” in New Zealand, I figured my skiing days were over, but then love came along in the form of a tall handsome guy called “David” (renamed to protect the not so innocent) in 1984 when I was living in Sydney. David was very sporty – loved his cricket and going to strip clubs (as I found out later, but that’s another story and one I won’t be going into or mentioning in a future post).
David also loved to ski – not that he was very good at it, just fast and, in my opinion, very unstylish. I used to refer to him as a “Kamikaze” skier.
Dating David was initially great – never argued, always laughing and enjoying the newness of a relationship. So when David suggested we go skiing to Thredbo, I agreed, but with some trepidation considering my very unglamorous skiing history.
Thredbo at night
Thredbo Resort is a very pretty ski town located in the Snowy Mountains in southern New South Wales and was, at the time, about a 6 hour drive south of Sydney.
So, the plan was this: David and I would leave Sydney at 1am on Saturday morning and drive the 6 hours to Thredbo, arriving at Jindabyne (the town at the base of the mountain) at about 7-8 am. This would have been okay if I’d been able to sleep during the drive, but driving with David was taking your life in your hands as he insisted on over-taking on bends, sitting right on the rear of the car or truck in front of him, and generally driving like a mad man. This behaviour was also reflected in his skiing. But as his passenger, I would sit with my foot on the brake and knuckles white from gripping the nearest stable thing to me. So by the time we arrived at Thredbo, I was what you’d mildly refer to as “out of my mind” with exhaustion and anxiety.
The newness of our relationship was wearing thinner by the mile, especially when I discovered that he wouldn’t let me stop for a restroom break! But David was not entirely mean as he actually stopped for breakfast in Jindabyne and I vaguely remember snapping at the waitress. Surprise, surprise!
Anyway, we continued on up to Thredbo resort, DID NOT check into the hotel first, just got our ski rental gear, parked the car and made our way to the slopes. Now, for those of you who are lucky enough never to have ridden a pommer (Episode 1), or a T-bar, let me explain what a T-bar is: It is a pole on a pulley, with a bar on either side of it which forms an upside down T. The idea is that two people sit on each of the bars which form the seats and they hold on to the pole in the middle. Like the pommer, you are not to “sit” on it, but rather let it pull you up the mountain. Having had vast experience on pommers, the T-Bar was relatively easy.
A T-Bar
However, riding a T-Bar on a steeper incline can be quite challenging, as I found out on another ski trip to Perisher Resort (also in New South Wales) where on the steepest part of the mountain, a cross-country skier 6 T-Bars up from me and my passenger, fell off his, slid and crashed into the next two unsuspecting skiers, who then slid into the next two, and so on. Unfortunately, by the time the person who loads skiers on the T-Bar noticed, it was too late as about 12 skiers had fallen to the left and to the right scrambling to find their skis.
But back to Thredbo. David and I reached the top of the mountain, and he, in his infinite wisdom, decided not to take me down the beginner green run, but to take me to another area named “Crackenback” which was accessed by a cat-track.
To this day, one of the things I loathe about skiing is having to go down cat-tracks and I think the hatred stemmed from this incident, which was nothing short of traumatic. The cat-track was narrow and reasonably steep for me, the beginner, with a sheer drop to the left of the trail. Even now, I will avoid a cat-track and trails if I can.
I somehow survived the cat-track only then to be faced with a more ominous task – skiing down a blue run which was very very icy. Unlike Utah, where most of the time you ski on light fluffy snow because of the dryness of the climate, Australian ski slopes can resemble skiing in Vermont on the East Coast of the USA, and the slopes can get icy.
I’m a bit embarrassed to go on with this story now, because I think I cried all the way down while screaming at David through my tears for having been so inconsiderate, and I think I called him a few names. Sleep deprivation will do strange things. I fell over more times than I care to admit and think at one point, I actually took off my skis so I could slide down on my bottom for part of the way.
But I survived to tell yet another tale of woe on the slopes.
And what of David? I’ll let you know in the next episode…..
SIDEBAR: The Perils of Living and Working in the Snow
I know it’s been a while since my last post, but the lead up to Christmas has been chaotic what with Christmas parties, shopping, and working at the Park City Mountain Resort (PCMR), Utah. Who has time for blogs?
But, Christmas Day is over as is what we Aussies and residents of other Commonwealth countries call “Boxing Day”. Boxing Day (and I’ve just looked it up), is “traditionally a day following Christmas when wealthy people in the United Kingdom would give a box containing a gift to their servants”. Now hands up who knew that! And hands up who still does that!
By way of background and for those of you who have not read the introduction to my blog, I volunteer one day a week at PCMR as a Lift Line Coordinator which I prefer to call, and which Seinfeld would have called a “Lift Nazi”, but which is professionally referred to as a Maze Controller or LLC.
I was lucky enough to land this volunteer position in late January 2011 as my husband and I moved to this delightful ski resort in December 2010. I work on a Friday and you will more than likely find me looking more like a person who directs aircraft down at First Time lift – called this, because it is normally the first time anyone has put skis on their feet. This, as you can imagine, is an interesting place to work, but more about First Time in a future post.
So, this Christmas was interesting, particularly in the gift department. Christmas back home is, generally, when most Aussies go on their annual vacation as the kids are on school holidays for an eternity, which I think is about 9 weeks (during which time some parents go completely mad), and most of Australia closes down for a month.
This is also when eager Australian skiers fly to the US or Europe for their skiing vacation, but when most head to the beach. And this is where, for most of my life, I would spend my Christmas holidays during which time, the most I had to don for the day was a bikini, shorts and sandals. However, now that I am living in Park City, I get to spend the best part of the day dressing for whatever activity I may be doing for the rest of that day.
For example, if I’m working on the mountain, I have to squeeze myself into two pairs of thermal tights, thermal base layer, fleece, another jacket, hat, gloves, glove warmers, two pairs of socks, foot warmers, and boots 
(I’m yet to find a pair that doesn’t make my toes feel like they don’t exist – suggestions anyone?), and then my uniform. Strangely enough,the other night, my husband made me watch “Christmas Story” and I can totally relate to the little brother in that movie when his mother dressed him so he had to walk with his arms 90 degrees away from his body because he was wearing so many clothes. In fact, the other day, I had to bend over to pick up something, and couldn’t!
Then, if I’m skiing, I get to do all of the above, except I get to experience what it’s like to nearly break my feet every time I put on my new ski boots – which once they’re on, are great! I often recall, while sitting on the fender of my car putting on my boots, the Bill Cosby skit where he likened the pain of child birth to pulling your bottom lip over your head!
And if I’m snow-shoeing (which I have recently taken up thanks to my delightful and very energetic neighbors), I get to do most of the above, but carry a backpack too!
So, this means that this year, my Christmas gifts changed somewhat from lingerie, bikinis, sarongs, shorts and sandals, to ski boots, snowshoes, ski gloves, scarves – oh, and a foot massager for me to use at the end of a day of skiing or standing on the snow in -15F!
And what did you get for Christmas?
Merry Christmas everyone, and Happy New Year!
Sidebar: Be kind to the woman you love!
It seems that some readers of this blog are amazed that I persevered with skiing, despite my horrible experiences. And to be perfectly honest, after reliving my “episodes” on the slopes – so am I. And just so you know, the horror stories didn’t stop in New Zealand…but you’ll have to wait for Episode 4. However, before I get to the next Episode, I’d like to share some valuable information with you, particularly anyone who is considering taking their wife skiing for the first time.
One of the things I love about skiing is getting on a chairlift and enjoying brief but enjoyable interludes with other skiers sharing the same chair. It’s great finding out where people are from, what they do for a living, and generally chatting about the snow and skiing, or snowboarding. (Actually, snowboarders don’t chat much, probably because they always have headphones plugged into their ears, which makes it almost impossible to strike up a conversation…as I found out just the other day when I said to the snowboarder beside me: “so what’s the snow like?” End of conversation.)
But I digress (which my husband says I do a lot)! Anyway, on all the chairs I have ridden, I have yet to meet an unhappy skier. Everyone I have had the joy of meeting on a chair lift or on the slopes has been happy, happy, happy, enjoying the elements, the views and the thrill of exercising all day in the “fresh” air (something I love, because it means I can pretty much eat anything!).
However, on several occasions, I have chatted with men who tell me that their wives won’t ski as they hated it after only one day, hence, they are skiing solo or with other male friends. Upon further questioning, it appears that the reason their wives hated skiing was because said considerate husband, who was invited to a conference at a ski resort and who convinced his wife to go with him, subliminally thought he’d get some of his own back and terrify his beloved by taking her up to the top of the mountain and then telling her to “just ski down”!
This reinforces my theory discussed in Episode 3 in which I believe that people actually get some kind of sick satisfaction seeing someone else, even if you are married to them, frozen in fear! They must, because otherwise, why would anyone take anyone up to the top of a mountain and say “ski”?
Now listen up all you male skiers out there! Here’s what you don’t appear to know. Men do not have fear. Women do! I figure this is because if a man falls and breaks his leg, his wife/partner will take care of him, the children, the house etc. etc. like she always does – so nothing in his life changes much. Now, if a woman breaks her leg…..well, she’ll still have to do all those things, but on crutches!
So, if you want the woman in your life to enjoy the skiing experience as much as you do, put her in a lesson with other women, with a female ski instructor (because just in case you men didn’t know this either, women communicate entirely different to men…but I think you do know this), and let her take her time on a beginners slope. Then, when she feels ready, take her to another beginners slope and ski “with” her, or if you ski ahead, wait for her every hundred yards or so. Do NOT pressure her into going faster, or pretend that you are a ski instructor and give her a plethora of instructions on every turn.
And ladies, remember, don’t be too hard on yourselves. Skiing is difficult and it takes patience and perseverance, but once you are able to turn and stop, and then enjoy the whole apres ski experience, you’ll begin to enjoy skiing, and eventually one day, even love it!
And if you need any encouragement, just re-read Episodes 1-3 of this blog and you’ll realize that we all have to start somewhere!
Skiing takes patience and perseverance
Postscript: For anyone visiting Park City Mountain Resort, they are now offering a Ladies Club for ladies who want to ski with other women at the same level and taught by a female ski instructor. Click here for more information.
Episode 3: Skiing in NZ – What more could go wrong?
Previously on the Perils of Caroline, Caroline was partaking in a swig of Dom Benedictine from her plastic film container and feeling like she was really getting the hang of this skiing deal (hmmmn) when a well-meaning couple suggested Maggie and Caroline go up on the chairlift!
So it’s the afternoon of Day 2 on the slopes of Coronet Peak in New Zealand and Maggie and I were standing on the line at the chairlift waiting for the chair to scoop us up and ferry us to the top of the mountain. All good so far. The chair came around and we were off!
Now, unless you’ve had ski lessons where the ski instructor who accompanies you instructs the novice skier on how to get off a chairlift, one is left to their own devices and imagination. So, as I approached the point at which I anticipated I was to unload, I got ready and voila! – actually managed to get off the chairlift. What I didn’t know, however, was that I had unloaded just a little too early. The thrill of being upright while exclaiming “I did it!” was short-lived because rather than skiing to the right – away from the chair, I remained stationery – but only for a moment! What was happening? Oh my God! I was sliding backwards…into an oncoming chair! Lucky for me, I fell forward with skis splayed out behind me. Not sure what happened to Maggie, but she was probably looking in horror at the disaster unfolding before her eyes, as was the lifty who yelled, “keep your head down!” at the same time that the oncoming chair skimmed over me.
Not sure if this was THE chairlift that nearly claimed my life
I am forever grateful to said lifty who saved my life that day and dragged me from becoming roadkill by the second oncoming chair loaded with skiers who at the same time managed to stop the chairlift.
If you are a skier, have you ever noticed how people you are skiing with NEVER tell you you can’t do something? They always say, “you can do that run!” Huh! Why do they do this? I think it’s because, even if they are your dear friends, they actually enjoy seeing you perched on the edge of a precipice frozen with fear! Perhaps it gives them power…I don’t know, but I had specifically asked the well-meaning couple with whom we had lunched, what the run down from the chairlift was like, and they both said: “Oh, you can do that – it’s easy!” Perhaps they didn’t know that all I knew how to do was snowplough or maybe they were really mean and nasty people, but after I was mobile again and headed off down the slope, what I did learn was that you really can’t snowplough on ice!
Yes, it was a very icy run, and as I felt myself going faster and faster, I did what every novice skier does – I leaned backwards. Hindsight and knowledge is great, but without understanding the mechanics of skiing, which is counter-intuitive, none of that matters! What that means to any non-skier or potential skier is that the further forward you lean, the more in control you are, and the minute you lean back – you’re screwed! So, I fell spectacularly with skis (which bindings didn’t release) wrapped around my neck and a severe pain in my left knee. At least I was alive. I tried to get up, but alas! I could not stand. Ski patrol was called and came to my rescue.
So, it was that I ended Day 2 and effectively the skiing part of my holiday in New Zealand, coming down in a stretcher bound and tied with just my head popping out from the blanket. Upon reaching the bottom of the mountain, I had to endure the embarrassment of other skiers looking at me as though I was dead and all I could say was, “I’m okay…really!”
Thank goodness Queenstown was a lovely place at which to recover from my medial ligament injury as for the rest of the week, I hobbled into several bars and restaurants alone and told people who initially looked at me with pity that I had fallen on a slope which had a name akin to “Death Wish”. It’s amazing how the look of “pity” quickly changed to one of “admiration”!
So here’s the lesson to all new skiers..don’t get off a chairlift too early (or too late for that matter), don’t lean backwards, make sure you know how to do more than snowplough before you tackle anything icy, and NEVER let the truth ruin a good story!
Episode 2: Skiing in NZ – The nightmare continues
There are some people who say they got hooked on skiing immediately. I am NOT one of those people. In fact, I disliked skiing immensely, and the “dislike” grew more intense the more I skied, due in part to a boyfriend I skied with, but which story I will share with you in another post. At this point, however, on the second day of skiing Coronet Peak in New Zealand, and despite nearly having wiped out an entire ski school the previous day, I was still at the “mild dislike” stage.
After Margaret (Maggie) and I laughed ourselves silly over dinner the previous night at our skiing feats, we were looking forward with anticipation to our second day on the slopes.
I wisely exchanged my racing skis for something far more appropriate and Maggie and I braved the mountain yet again.
I might mention at this point that prior to my leaving for NZ, an older and very glamorous woman told me that I would simply love skiing, because when one falls over, all these gorgeous men come to your rescue and help you back on your feet.
So, the first challenge of the day was to tackle the pommer. Since New Zealand, I have only discovered one other pommer in existence, which is located at Powder Mountain near Ogden, Utah – and there’s a reason for that as I will explain. A pommer is a plate on a pulley that you put between your thighs and which sits under your bottom (Americans would use the world “fanny”, but we 
Australians know never to use that word in public…don’t we Heidi?) The idea is that the pulley pulls you up the mountain and then, at the appropriate time – when you reach the end of the line, you remove this plate from between your thighs by pulling down on the pulley with a free hand (because you’ve got your poles in the other) and let it swing off to the left, while you ski off to the right. Now this sounds great in theory, but in practical terms, it’s totally ludicrous!
The first thing EVERYONE does is what is the most natural thing in the world to do when you have something between your thighs that resembles a seat – you sit down. NO!!! Even though the person loading you on the pommer tells you NOT to sit down, you do! It would be like telling someone to “take a seat” but they are expected to just “hover” over the chair. Ridiculous! So, after a couple of embarrassing moments of sitting on the pommer and landing on my bottom, I kind of got the gist of it, and let the pommer pull me. This pommer was a little tricky (surprise, surprise), because there were two points at which you could exit – well, actually, one point at which you could exit, and one point you must exit. The first one was just half way up the mountain and was for beginner skiers, and the second and final stop was for more advanced skiers. Well, as I was approaching the first exit point – my exit point – I got myself ready, only to find I had no way of getting this plate out from between my legs! Aarrrggghh!!! I missed the moment. So I continued up the mountain, which seemed awfully steep. Oh my God!!!! So, as I approached the end of the line – and I mean this – the end of the line, the pulley lifted me off into the air, the plate dislodged itself from where it was, and I was then careening down towards a narrow ledge at the end of which was a cliff!Goodness knows how I stopped. All I can say is that my guardian angel was with me that day. Remember, at this point, all I knew how to do was snow-plow, so with me chanting to myself: “I can do it, I can do it”, I took off down a very narrow and what seemed, steep, slope. Maggie had managed to remove herself from the pommer at the first exit and was kindly waiting for me.
Well, to be expected, I fell. Remembering what my very glamorous friend had told me that a plethora of gorgeous mountain men would come to my rescue, I waited…and waited…and waited. Now I figure that the reason no-one stopped to help me resume a vertical position was because they, themselves, were unable to stop. Or was it because these guys were Australian and Kiwis and could care less? That must be it! So, I lay on the snow for about ten minutes before I decided that I had to take matters into my own hands. Success! I got up and managed to ski the rest of the way without incident. Phew!
I met Maggie at the bottom of the mountain and headed off for a well needed lunch – and my secret supply of Dom Benedictine. Someone – and I don’t think it was the older and very glamorous friend, advised me to take a nip of alcohol with me for relaxation purposes, so I put some DB into a film container (remember, this was 1982 and before digital and also when DB was quite a trendy liqueur), which I then put in my pocket for emergencies. After my near death experience, I felt that a swig was definitely required. But you see, the problem with alcohol is that it can make you bullet proof, so when Maggie and I met a couple who suggested we come up on the chairlift with them, I was ready! Or was I?
Stay tuned….
Episode 1: Let’s go skiing…to New Zealand
I think it was 1981 or 1982 (but seriously, it was so long ago, who can remember?) when my girlfriend, Margaret, suggested we go on a ski trip to Queenstown, New Zealand – a seriously beautiful part of the world for those of you who have not visited. I had never skied before, nor had I been successful at roller skating or ice-skating, but I was reasonably sporty, so thought that while it might be a challenge, it would be one I could overcome…easily. Little did I know!
- A view of Coronet Peak, NZ
Coronet Peak – a 20 minute drive from Queenstown, was the mountain we were recommended to ski, which is devoid of trees (like most of NZ ski slopes) which, personally, I think makes the place very “unpretty” but from a beginner’s point of view, is excellent, as there’s nothing to run into.
So, the first day, Margaret and I, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed, went to rent our ski gear. When the rental guy asked me what sort of skis I wanted, I replied: “the best!”. Now, I’m kinda thinking that this guy thought: “I’ll show her!” Looking back at the harrowing experience that was yet to come, I think the smart ass (hang on, wasn’t that me?) gave me racing skis. And here’s why I think that.
Margaret and I headed up to the beginner’s slope, which had a very, very gradual decline and enrolled in our first ever ski lesson. I was successfully standing with my skis facing across the mountain (baby hill) but before I had even managed to gradually turn my skis to face down the hill, I took off with great speed (probably not at all, but it seemed that way) and absolutely no way of stopping (as I hadn’t learned that yet) and shock horror, found myself heading towards an entire ski school innocently traversing across the hill right in front of me! The rest was a bit of a blur, but somehow I eventually managed to stop, look behind me and see the carnage that I had left behind. I had skied through the skiers and over their skis and while they had fallen to the left and to the right, I remained upright! That must mean I’ve got good balance, right?
And what of my friend, Margaret? Well, here’s a lesson that anyone who hasn’t skied before and is thinking of skiing should heed.
Margaret and I had managed a couple of “runs” (I use this term generously as we are probably talking about 100 feet here), and on my third run, I stopped half way (50 feet) and looked behind me to see Margaret gently making her way down the slope. I then continued with the rest of my run, stopped, looked behind me again and…where was Margaret? She had simply disappeared! I then noticed a commotion on the other side of the baby pommer, where there was a drop of about 4 feet. I waddled my way over (as to say I skied over would be a great exaggeration) to see her in a pile of snow with skis and poles everywhere. So, it seems, this is what happened. She took off and was looking at the kids on the pommer instead of down the mountain. And the lesson? Wherever you are looking, you will go!
We survived Day 1, but both badly in need of a vino. Surely Day 2 was going to be better? Then again….
Introduction: Do I have to write a blog? Yes..you do!
“You have to write a blog!” Skboot’s web developer says. “Why?” I say. “Because it’s good for SEO” they say. Apparently, if you update your blog often enough and put it on your website, the Search Engines love it. So, while I actually enjoy writing, it is with some hesitation that I am commencing this blog. So, lots of encouragement pleeeeease!
So, the first dilemma I had was what to write about. Well, actually, it wasn’t. The first dilemma was: “do I write it from a company viewpoint, or a personal viewpoint?” It seems that the common consensus was that as the founder of Skboot and having invented this brilliant little wheeled boot bag, I should write the blog from a personal viewpoint.
Then came the second dilemma of what to write about. Now, everyone thinks that because I invented this great boot bag, I must be a great skier and an expert on all things skiey (is there such a word?). Well, let me get this straight right from the start – neither apply to me. I just happened to be someone who loved to travel and loved to ski and disliked immensely (I’ll try not to use the word “hate”) traveling while also carrying my ski boots and gear! I couldn’t believe that someone hadn’t invented such an animal – so taking into account the words of Edmund Burke “The only way for evil to triumph is for good men (or women) to do nothing” – I decided to do something and dispense with the evil that permeated the skiing industry, which ultimately believes that all skiers are young, strong, athletic men who can carry all their ski gear in one little bag over their shoulders!
But I digress…so I’ve decided to write a blog in the first person about something that relates to skiing. You know, I’ve always been someone who when they walk out the door, something crazy happens and I often fantasized about writing a book called the “Perils of Caroline” which was actually going to be about my love life, and while the content of these perils might be hilarious for most (women), it’s probably not that funny for skiers or people who travel to ski, and it would be totally irrelevant for the Skboot website.
So, as mentioned in my bio, I now live and work in Park City. During the ski season, I am lucky enough to have been chosen to volunteer one day a week at the Park City Mountain Resort as a Lift Line Coordinator (LLC), which I prefer to call – and what Seinfeld would probably call – a Lift Nazi. So, I’m responsible for getting groups of 4 or 6 onto a lift so the lifts are being utilized as much as they can be and while this might seem easy, to be honest, I’ve never had so much trouble counting to 4 and 6 in my life! This, to people who know me, would not find this surprising at all.
But, prior to landing this great job, and prior to moving to Park City, Utah, I lived in Australia where swimming is a national sport – not skiing. So, I thought I would entertain you with some of the funny (I hope) perils I have had on the ski slopes during the years and to share with you the goings on in Park City, Utah and in the lift lines of PCMR!
I would love for anyone reading my blogs to comment (no profanity please) and to share their stories also. Please feel free to share photos of your skiing memories. Let’s make this fun and interactive.
The chapters, I will call “Episodes” (and when you read them, you’ll know why), which I will intersperse with “Sidebars” of things that have nothing to do with me but events or tips or anything else that I think you may be interested in. Again, I’m open to suggestions.
But for now, let’s start with Episode 1 of the Perils of Caroline – Living and Working in the Snow…we’re off to New Zealand!