We started by renting skis, instead of buying, because the kids are young and their skiing ability and body size will change quickly over the years and we rented for the season so we won't have to go through the time and effort of outfitting 4 people every day we want to hit the slopes (Kerrie has her own equipment). So let's describe the ski gear, shall we?
You start with designer footwear that was developed by the Mafia for use on short boat trips with unwanted passengers. Had they only patented the design they would easily have enough money to abandon any other illegal activities. The boots are large, heavy, clunky, moon-boots that make walking on flat surfaces seem like you are walking across boulders. Next, you need the actual skis that are nothing more than long, thin planks that you strap your boots into. You don't put them on your feet, but rather put your feet into them. Once you put them on you are committed to moving in only a single direction for the rest of the day...and I don't mean "forward", I mean "down". Now you need a helmet. The kids have one helmet for biking and a different helmet for hockey, but apparently safety scientists (let's call them "marketing majors") have determined you need yet a third type of helmet for skiing and you should not be using the other helmets for head protection. These we buy because they are adjustable and should last longer than the skis we rent. Although, in order for their heads to grow I would imagine their brains would need to grow and I can assure you, that is not happening. Lastly, you need weapons. Most sports like hockey, golf, and baseball require you to carry only one weapon at a time, but here is where skiing tops them all. You actually get to carry one long, sharp, pointy stick in each hand that can easily be used to fend off rocks, trees, and brothers.
Last year, we put the boys in one lesson and then I have been teaching them since. As indicated in prior posts, the higher up the mountain we went, the more nervous they became but those fears have since subsided and they can ski with relative ease now, although it is important to note that Bretton Woods is not a very challenging mountain. Molloy has shown to have very little interest or ability in sports to date and either becomes mentally exhausted very quickly (in minutes) or just doesn't have the concentrative ability on the physical side of things (you are allowed to make up words like "concentrative" on a blog, mostly because the word "blog" itself is a made up word. It comes from shortening the combined words of "web log", in case you didn't know.) I'm not worried as she is generally very coordinated, she just hasn't learned how to apply it yet. So Molloy hasn't yet been skiing for more then 15 minutes until a more recent lesson had her on the mountain for the day.
For the most part, the boys ski all day with images of $3.00 hot chocolates dancing in their head. They like to claim they are going down black diamonds, which they are, but a black diamond at Bretton Woods is not the same as a black diamond in Aspen. A black diamond at Bretton Woods means that there is a large rock off the side of the trail. In Aspen, it means the trail is a large rock.
But now it is a year later and we thought we could put them in a lesson again. We step up to the counter with the boys in tow and carefully explain to the instructor their current skibilities (I like blogging!). The instructor is a gnarly looking kid with long, straggly hair seeping out of his winter hat. It looks like he bought a Halloween pirate costume that came with the hair attached to the hat. I think if I looked behind the counter I would see that his feet are still strapped into a snowboard.
I explain to him that Lev is a very methodical skier, highly concentrating on where he will make each turn, how he will make each turn, and whether he can make each turn. Daniel, on the other hand, puts his skis in the traditional V shape and points them straight down the mountain. He travels at a frightening velocity with no hint of a turn or any abatement of his speed. I follow behind him scared he is so out of control that one little bump will cause him to crash and explode into a scattered mess of clothing and equipment which will make him the featured outtake on ABC's Wide World of Sports and force me to have a yard sale right there on the side of the mountain. But in his own mind I know that he thinks he is in complete control, will ski to the bottom of the mountain with great skill, right through the front door of the lodge with an outstretched arm, snatch a hot chocolate, and keep on going right out the back door.
The instructor simply says, "A Careful Carver and a Death Wedge. Got it."
I walk away highly confident the instructor knows his job well.
Molloy also gets a lesson with a gaggle of cuties and makes great improvement. She now travels straight down Peanut Butter, Jelly, and Fluff with ease...but it is a straight bee-line to the bottom of the hill and the only thing that stops her is she is so light-weight that there is not enough pressure on the snow to cause her to slide any more, as she doesn't otherwise know how to stop. It will be a while longer before we bring her up higher on the mountain.
Meanwhile, with the kids in private school (Okay, it's not those expensive Greenwich academies but it is all we could afford), Kerrie and I have a ski date for the full day up on the mountain; she being the Careful Carver and I employing the Death Wedge.
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