In 2004, my mom took the family on a ski trip to Kitzbuhel, Austria. Her real estate business was booming that year and she wanted to treat all of us to a special, memorable trip. We had never been skiing before. My stepdad (“Davito”) knew how to ski, and regaled us with stories of ski trips ranging from heading up to the mountain with Scotchguarded jeans in college to more extravagant trips like the one we planned for Austria.
At the time, one of the local Sun and Ski locations in Austin had a “bunny slope” for beginners to at least learn a few basics before their first trip. It was basically a huge carpet-covered wedge with a bar across the midway point to catch you as you “skied” down. At the ages of 54 and 24 respectively, my mom and I did the pizza wedge with our skis in preparation for our great adventure.
Davito taught me a lot of things, like how to drive stick. Sure, I had those lessons at the Sun and SKi, I had some lessons from a couple of instructors here and there, but I credit Davito with most of it. In the beginning, he told me I was “just pushing snow around.” I put my mind to it and tried to mimic his easy turns, his relaxed flow while cruising blues. About eight years in, flying around the corner of Dercum’s Gulch, one of my all-time favorite runs at Araphaoe Basin, he skied up to where I was waiting for him and said, “Take it easy, your dad’s an old man.” My heart leapt and I laughed out loud. It was then I realized I was a skier.
Every time I click into my skis, I think about his lessons. There are two simple ones that translate from skiing to life.
Be Courteous, Be Aware of Your Surroundings
If you’re going to listen to music, make sure you pause it or turn it down in the lift line. It’s very important to load and unload carefully, and you need to hear the liftee’s directions if they have to communicate with you. Once you’re off the lift, you should also keep the music at a level where you can still hear what’s going on around you.
If you need to stop on the run, pull over. Think about it—if you need to stop in your car on the road or the highway, do you just hit the brakes in the middle of the roadway? Of course not. Instead, you pull over so you’re out of harm’s way for yourself and others. Same with a ski run.
In other words, be courteous and aware of your surroundings. This could apply in the grocery store, on the highway, anywhere. It just makes sense. Especially in the world of global pandemic life, just do it.
Live a Little, Treat Yourself
Davito taught me to live a little and indulge. Eat lunch on the mountain. Get the overpriced burger. Have a beer. Some of the best memories are created when you get out the map, talk with your ski buddies about which runs were awesome, where you’re headed next, laugh about how you survived that double black with powder up to your knees. And don’t forget about apres ski once the lifts are closed. That calls for wine and cheese, and perhaps a really terrible movie back at the condo. Then early to bed, so you can get up and get that corduroy.
Equipment changes, sometimes form and technique change. But the lessons of the mountain and life never do. We would all do well to remember those lessons and practice them every day. As they say, practice makes perfect—from pushing snow around to becoming a real skier.