First Turn Jitters, con't.
None of us is really sure if this snow is even skiable. There’s enough of it—up to thirty inches in
places—but the snowpack lacks a good base. During the hike up, which was more of a wallow, my tips
snagged in the sage. Would there be enough snow to keep our bases off the ground? Or would it be too
much? Would we bog down like jeeps in the mud?
It’s funny. Here I am standing at the top of another ski run. I’ve done this hundreds of times before.
It’s easy. Point your skis downhill, pick up some speed, flex your ankles… Just like riding a bike.
So what’s the big deal? In reality I haven’t done this hundreds of times. If I’ve been skiing for
twenty eight years then I’ve stood at the top of a ski run preparing for the first turn twenty-eight times.
And I only remember maybe a third of them. So in reality this is a little tricky.
Finally someone puts their angst behind them and their tips in front. The rest of us stop our preparations
and watch the brave forerunner, looking for clues about the conditions. Rhythmical initiation, good
balance—but it’s still hard to say what it will be like until I’m actually in it.
At the top of a run I like to thrust my tails into the snow and get myself pointed downhill. Then all it
takes to get started is a weight transition forward. I can’t do that here because when I spike my tails
they hit dirt. I guess I have to start perpendicular to the fall line. It will make it that much trickier.
Finally I can’t wait any longer. There’s a nice set of tracks in the snow. It didn’t look that bad.
I un-weight from my parallel stance and let my skis drift into the fall line. For a flicker of a moment
I get back but instinct tells me what to do. Get forward. I find my balance point in the next instant
and the first turn is already finished.
The snow is deep but fast. I have to keep a wide platform to maintain flotation and this prevents
me from really pushing down into the snow. But I can’t resist. I want to get my feet into it. So I pick up
some more speed, hit it a little harder, and wow… Snow billows up around my face and in my mouth.
I imagine a wispy wake swirling behind me.
It’s not the first turn but it couldn’t have been more than fourth. In the future, with some poetic
license, this not-first turn of the year will become the first and the story will go that it was a face shot!
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