Can't ski the forest for the trees?
Category: Kitchen Sink...
Posted Friday, March 04, 2005 at 09:05 AM [GMT-6]

I'm sure that some will disagree, but I believe the suceess of a ski trip is directly proportional to the frequency of the following type of conversation between you and your skiing partner on the lift:

Later, after another brisk run down the mountain, I again glance over at him while we're riding the lift. He has a small tree branch clinging to the side of his wool ski mask. If ever there was a symbol of a worthy run, it's the taking of part of the forest with you.

OK, I admit it. Tommy and I don't view ski areas the same as most people. Where the majority of skiers see a mountainside of white open spaces separated by scenic but otherwise useless strips of forest, we see hidden challenges bordered by wide avenues of snow. The perception and mindset is as different as the technique needed to master each type of run.

I don't want to read too much into this or get too philosophical about it, but skiing the trees does seem to present some good "life lessons," if you think about it.

• Just because no one else has preceded you doesn't mean you're going the wrong way.
  
  Some of the best runs we've had come when our tracks are the first and only ones through a section of the forest. There's not much to compare to the soft hiss of skis over unpacked snow, especially when contrasted with the frenetic pace of the skiers and boarders hurtling down the marked trails. The thing is, though, we're often initimidated by that unmarked snow in front of us. Is there a reason why no one else seems to have tried this before? Are we really up to the task? What if we get somewhere that we can't get back from?
  
  Sometimes, we do find out why no one else is skiing that line...but more often we find that our minor risk is rewarded with a sense of accomplishment and a joy of simply doing something we weren't sure we could do.


• It's not wise to look too far ahead...or to focus too intently on what's immediately in front of you. But in every case, look to where you want to go.
  
  Skiing through trees requires that you pick a line and commit to it. Indecision or changing your mind at the last second can have disastrous consequences. One needs to always be looking ahead at the next turn; the one you're now in is ancient history. The long term goal -- getting to the end of the run safely and with a smile on your face -- is certainly important, and doing each immediate task well is essential, but it's the grasping of the next step that creates a fulfilling process.


• Patience is a virtue, as is nimbleness.
  
  I daresay that most skiers, especially the guys, are into the sport for the speed. I used to be, and there's still something special about pointing the skis downhill and seeing how high up the curve you can push the intersection of your velocity and your courage. But skiing a fast straight downhill line in the trees is simply a recipe for a quick life insurance settlement for your heirs. Slowing down...sometimes to the point of crawling...is the key to a clean run through the dense forest, and the ability to change direction as conditions dictate is essential. These truths are even reflected in our equipment. Instead of skis that are longer than we are tall, we strap on stubby little sticks with flared tips fore and aft (if you must know, in my case, 171 cm Salomon 1080s are the preferred tools). They're jicky going fast, and you can't carve those wide sweeps, but you can weave a line around trees that makes you look better than you really are. Likewise, in everyday life...in our relationships and our work...we are most successful when we have a plan, but are able to quickly adapt to unexpected conditions and changes beyond our control. And while it's a cliché, it's still true: slowing down gives us the best opportunity to enjoy the small details that make life more than just existing.

At the end of the day, though, it's not worth over-analyzing. The only question to be answered is "did I have fun?" That's a legitimate measure for a ski vacation, but it's not the best way to measure the worth of your life.

Still, I can safely say that with respect to that question as applied to our recently completed trip, the answer is, without a doubt...Oh, yeah!