Today I went with my son Tristan to ski the NASTAR racecourse. Tristan skied with a race team, initially Team Copper and later with Team Summit, since he was five years old. Unlike Tristan, I grew up skiing in our back yard in Germany and following my parents down various slopes in the Alps. My later training in skiing has been as an instructor, not on a racecourse. I’ll show photos that show how the two styles of skiing and training differ.
Skiing at Keystone
Tristan skiing at Keystone
Tristan skies more aggressively, not only in that he skis much faster, but he also keeps his arms higher and hands more in front, a result of many hours spent blocking gates. He’s training me to ski the racecourse, and to keep my hands more forward.
His advice worked in one sense - on my initial run through the NASTAR course, I qualified for a gold medal. On our lift ride up, he gave me various pointers to increase my speed. These included pushing off more firmly with my poles at the top to gain more speed initially (I did this); skating at the top to increase initial speed (I didn’t do this); skiing a straighter and tighter line (I tried); and tucking low and wide at the bottom.
My attempt at the low tuck at the end of the course ended in a huge crash, with skiis flying everywhere. I lay on the ground, flat on my back, barely able to breather, gasping for air. I felt like I’d broken a rib, and at the least gotten all the wind knocked out of me. Tristan, who skied the course next to me (and whom I was trying to keep up with), ran up to ask if I was all right. At first I could only gasp and pant for air. Once I could talk, I told him that I was mostly all right. After catching my breath, I stood up and to my delight, learned that I’d managed to cross the line before crashing, gaining my self a platinum medal.
Despite the biggest crash in many years, I was happy. I’d achieve my goal: a NASTAR platinum medal. I’ll have to practice going into a tuck at high speed.
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