The One Where Adaptive Snow Sports are King of the Mountain

Who ever knew that when skiing with a vision impairment, it is nearly impossible to tell how fast you are going, or when you’ve come to a complete stop, or that the little black ball in front of you is actually a small child? Despite having near perfect 20/20 vision, I had the terrifying opportunity to learn first-hand what skiing with a vision impairment felt like while training this weekend with The Remarkables Adaptive Snow Sports School. After applying to be a volunteer and spending a day on the snow with the current staff, I was offered a full-time position with the adaptive program. Seeing as we were going to be working with skiers and snowboarders having a variety of different disabilities, it made sense to train by becoming disabled ourselves. But first, lets back up…

Typically this time of year I would be spending an amazing week immersing myself in adaptive sports through the Ability First Wheelchair Sports Camp. The camp runs once a year at Chico State and plays host to a rambunctious and awe-inspiring group of kids, coaches, and support staff. Rugby? Water skiing? Rock climbing? Yep, they do it all! For obvious reasons I was unable to attend camp this summer, so I opted out for the next best thing I could find in wintery New Zealand – adaptive snow sports!

The past two days I’ve had a tremendous experience learning how to assist others on and around the snow. Day one was spent working with two different types of skies: a bi-ski and mono-ski. These babies are the equivalent of highly technical wheelchairs on snow and boy are they fun! At first being strapped into a sitting position completely unable to use my legs was rather uncomfortable. It really hit me in those first few moments while sitting in the bi-ski how lucky I am to have the use of my legs and how much I take my mobility for granted. But once we got moving down the beginner slope my discomfort changed into a sense of elated joy. This was so freaking cool! If using a sit-ski was that incredible for me as an able-bodied person, I can’t imagine the kind of freedom and sense of mobility disabled riders must feel while skiing.

After a few runs in the bi-ski it was my turn to guide and support. Our instructor Kate strapped into the ski and was more than happy to let us drop her onto the snow to learn how to get the ski upright after a fall. We practiced a technique called ‘bucketing’ in which you ski directly behind the rider holding onto the back of the seat to control or support the speed and direction of the rider. Next we moved onto tethering, in which ropes are used to achieve speed and directional safety, as well as assist riders in making turns. My own skiing isn’t that great, so I was a bit nervous when we lifted Kate onto the chairlift to take her down an actual run.

Things started out great as we turned our way across the beginner run. Around the first bend the terrain dropped steeply but we pushed onward, Kate confidently in front of me as I tethered behind. Suddenly mid-turn, my right ski caught an edge, launching me off balance. A disastrous fall was imminent so instead of taking Kate with me in my out of control plunge, I wordlessly let go of the tether ropes. BAD IDEA! Kate rapidly picked up speed and began sliding out of control toward the edge of the trail. Our other instructor Nate began shouting “TURN KATE TURN!!!” as Kate plummeted into ungroomed snow and abruptly slammed onto her side.

Regaining my balance, I joined the rest of our training group as we rushed to Kate’s aid. Luckily she was unharmed, and apart from a jacket full of snow, she was still cheerful and smiling. Terrified to repeat my drastic mistake, I didn’t want to finish the run. Nate convinced me to ‘get back on the horse’ so to speak so we got Kate upright and then proceeded slowly down the rest of the mountain without incident. Once reaching the bottom Nate pointed out that we train for a reason, and that falls are a regular part of any kind of learning snow sports, regardless of ability. His words of wisdom made me feel much better about the blunder with Kate.

Our second day was spent learning how to guide the visually impaired. Scrunching plastic cling-wrap into our goggles, our vision quickly became full of blind spots and a few shadowy shapes. I couldn’t even distinguish my guide’s skis from the snow and could only really see her bright red pants in front of me. Relying on my guide’s vocal directions, I slowly inched my way down the hill unable to distinguish my speed or the terrain in front of me. I even had to rely on Kate telling me, ‘you are stopped.’ to know when I wasn’t moving anymore. Again, the experience has made me so grateful to have the use of all my senses.

After two days of training I am exhausted but incredibly excited to get on the slopes to guide and assist. If the experience of training in adaptive snow sports with such enthusiastic and genuinely caring instructors is any indication of how this season is going to go, I may just have the most rewarding ski season of my life ahead of me!

 -Ashley

Fun Fact: According to my work safety video, 30% of ski accidents happen in the parking lot. I don't know about those guys, but I fall just about everywhere!

The One Ski Bummin'

Five years of university, a resume two pages long, immaculate references, and I’m happily living in a basement, without work, spending my days wearing the same pair of waterproof pants Monday through Sunday. Welcome to the life of a ski bum.

Ten months ago I would not have dreamt of spending my summer in the Southern Alps of New Zealand. But alas, the temptation of endless days spent riding some of the best snow in the southern hemisphere was too strong to resist. The ski fields surrounding Queenstown are a far cry from the world-renowned resorts of Tahoe, but these kiwi folks don’t let it stop them from being some of the most hard-out riders in the world.

Catching the ski bug before the season even began, I geared myself up with a snowboard and skis. Without any work for nearly a month, I’ve found myself in the midst of a well-deserved ski vacation.

When the powder is deep and the sun is shining I ride my board and attempt to keep up with my mates who’ve spent their adult lives following winter year-round. Throwing 360’s and floating nose grabs come as easily to these guys as the rest of us know how to tie our shoelaces. When the weather isn’t as cooperative, I strap my skis to my retro 90’s boots ($10 at the Salvation Army!) and inch my way down the mountain. Luckily for me, a ton of my friends are ski instructors and so in 3 days I’ve gone from pizza and French fries to looking like I actually know how to ski! My mate Faye reckons I’ll be flying down the slopes like Bode Miller before the end of season. I laughed knowing Bode is well-known for his unorthodox skiing methods and out of control style!

Two major differences between skiing in California vs. NZ? Trees and atmosphere. It took me a few runs to realize it, but there are NO TREES to be found on the slopes here! Rocks yes, some tussock grass here and there, but no tees whatsoever, making nearly every inch of terrain rideable. As for the atmosphere here, thus far I’ve noticed a freakish harmony amongst skiers and snowboarders. Riders actually make an effort to be safe and courteous and when crashes do occur, apologies are often exchanged (as opposed to the ghetto jerkwad riders in California who think that because they can hit rails it makes them king of the mountain). I was also taken aback when I realized everyone leaves their stuff lying around. American and European tourists pay the appalling locker fees but everyone else chucks their bags wherever there is space. Ski and snowboard theft? Virtually non-existent. According to my kiwi roommate, the “bros” keep theft at a minimum. If a kiwi bro catches you stealing, you would be begging to be arrested by official police by the time they’d be through roughing you up.

Back to more pleasant ski bummin’ observations…

Queenstown is the perfect location for a resort town. The snowline falls just above town so you can be riding “freshies” after a short 25-minute drive but don’t have to deal with the havoc of snow filled roads and paths in town. Its still cold, and housing insulation is horrendously bad, but nearly every restaurant and pub has a blazing fire burning long into the night. The town is full of tourists but the locals are a protective bunch of insanely adventurous people who have a wonderfully pleasant demeanor. It wasn’t planned, but I’m stoked to be spending a ski season bummin’ the slopes of NZ.

-Ashley

Fun Fact: Despite having the highest accident rate per capita in the world, drivers in NZ are typically safe in snowy conditions. The exception being the dudes in their Subaru’s who think “4WD” means “impossible to crash”. Case in point: an idiot thought passing everyone while driving up a snow-covered windy road was a good idea. About two turns after the showoff passed us, we stumbled upon his Subaru on its side cozied up in a deep snow-filled ditch; the driver embarrassingly trying to figure out how he slid off the side of the road while all his buddies stood shaking their heads. The best part? The dozen or so pissed-off drivers that he had dangerously passed waved and smiled as we drove slowly onward making it safely to the ski fields.

The One Where I Learn to Appreciate Chairlifts!

It’s a frigid 28 degrees outside and I’m sweating profusely. Luckily for me I am not in the midst of a bout with the flu, rather I'm hiking up crunchy corduroy lined snow in an attempt to find some fresh powder.

This morning began like most in Queenstown, ridiculously cold and covered in shadows. The direct sunlight only hits town for about 5 hours a day, and even that amount of time is slowly dwindling.  It’s actually quite confusing after spending my whole life in the northern hemisphere; being June and all, when I look outside my instincts tell me it’s about 9am when in reality its closer to 1pm. The lack of sunlight is obviously not my favorite thing about Queenstown. Hell if you’ll ever find me vacationing in Antarctica during winter!

Aside from the cold and the nearly constant shadows (and no work hours at the moment despite being on payroll at three different companies) I don’t have much to complain about. I found a delightful little basement room that’s literally the closest house to downtown that you can possibly get. To give you an idea: imagine living directly across the street from Madison Bear in downtown Chico… I’m that close. Its also got the most KILLER view of The Remarkables mountain range.

 I’ve got to chuckle at the fact that I’ve had rooms in a garage, a car, an attic, and now a basement. Guess I couldn’t be bothered with living in a space that was actually designed with the intentions of being a bedroom. Where would the fun in that be?

Back to hiking.

With nothing much to do in town other than spend money that I don’t really have, I took up a mate’s offer to catch a ride up to one of the local ski resorts. The lifts aren’t open yet but I’ve been told that hiking for a few hours to ride the trails is nearly worth it compared to avoiding all the idiots who forgo ski lessons and descend upon the mountain like war missiles in a few days time.  Carrying my board on my handy Dakine backpack (probably one of the best things I’ve brought along globetrotting) I mechanically took one step after another until reaching the top of the run. The four boys with me were set on building a kicker despite the lack of fresh snow. I told them when they needed a ride to the hospital I would be happy to drive before strapping myself in and taking my brand new board on her first run.

I learned very quickly the locals weren’t kidding when they said everything is usually icy. Carving toward what looked like powder I soon sunk my nose through the hard surface and became completely stuck. Leaning down to unbind my boots I heard a ‘clink’ before looking up to watch my Klean Kanteen race off like a bobsled competing in the Olympics. The water bottle caught some pretty sweet air before dropping into a ravine a good 50 feet away from me. As if I weren’t tired enough already, I trudged into the gully and retrieved my cargo. After hiking back to the trail I got back down to business and was able to link a few turns on softer snow before riding into a shadow and immediately skidding along what could easily be described as concrete.

I hiked around a bit more and took short runs before the boys were finished smashing themselves up on their mini jump. We then all took a cruisy run to the bottom before deciding it was ‘beer o’clock’ and headed back into town for a well-deserved pint. I had some tasty mountain water, which coincides with my jobless beverage budget. Nursing my water and a sore back (and burning calves), I reflected on my newfound appreciation for chairlifts and don’t feel quite as taken advantage of with having to pay $800 for a season pass. With ski’s and a snowboard to ride and heaps of free time, I plan on getting my money’s worth!

-Ashley

Fun Fact: I swear that Kiwi men stutter their words at an unusually high rate. I'm trying to find out hard proof that its not just me and that a bunch of these blokes really do st-st-stutter. Maybe its my childhood speech impediment making me hyper sensitive. Hmm...