January Update skiing...

It’s been a while since I’ve written, maybe because nothing has really happened—or maybe because everything has happened, and I just don’t know where to begin with the little nuances of my everyday life…

I guess for starters I’ve decided to stay another year. Predicated upon that decision, I decided to buy a pair of skis. I already had all of my gear sans the boards and poles, and after making it out a few times I finally came to the conclusion that: a) repeatedly renting gear plus buying tickets was getting spendy, b) in Slovakia ski resorts are not always equipped with rental facilities, and c) it SUCKS getting new gear every time (pretty frequently crappy gear) and always having to spend the first few runs acclimating. I figure over two years the skis will at least pay for themselves, and I was able to cut a deal with the headmistress so that I can sell them to the school for a reduced price when I leave.

The times that I have managed to make it to the hill so far I’ve mostly gone with Helena, the headmistress, and some configuration of her family. I love it, because in the CO (with the exception of a few friends) I mostly go skiing with my own family and a core group of close family friends. We have the system down—if you’re around for Sunday it is family ski day, your gear better be ready the night before, we’re pulling out at 6:30, and we’ll be on one of the first few chairs probably singing our repertoire of rando songs. We know where/when to meet people, we have a pretty standard territory we like to cover, everyone has pretty comparable (and competent) abilities—there’s no messing around. Even in college, the few times I skied Kirkwood in California I went with one of my roommates and her family who also has a pack of friends they crusade the ski slopes with.

Skiing with Helena’s family sort of reminds me of skiing with my own—Helena, her husband Vlado, and her son Martin are all great skiers. Martin even helped me unlock the issues I was having with my own technique: “you aren’t finishing your turns”. I scrutinized what he said for a moment, and then, Eureka! A light bulb went off and I had flashbacks of ski coaches at dry-erase boards. So that’s what they meant with all those dots and horseshoe squiggles… Vlado even reminds me of Bill Maffeo, the unofficial Alpha male of my home ski squad. Vlado is a man of few words (and not even because of language barrier) and usually means business. I first met him on that bike ride to gulas, where he was also the leader. He doesn’t like to wait around and he hates being late or delayed. Therefore, the first time I went skiing with them I made sure I was posted up a good ten minutes early—between all the grooming from my own family and four years of collegiate crew, the slogan “on-time is late” is pretty much engraved in my brain. Also, making a good first impression with this guy was going to be crucial for the success of my future Slovak skiing career. When the car pulled up Helena stumbled out to help me load my gear, moaning, “Ooooh, Vlado is pushing me this morning, he is saying ‘ve are late, ve should have gone by now! Ahhhh!” Yup, this guy’s for real. So for real in fact, that he and his family and a bunch of friends make an annual ski pilgrimage to the Dolomites in Italy, and I am the most stoked girl because this year I will also be going on that adventure! WOO!!!

The thing about Slovak ski areas though (or at least those that I’ve seen) is that they are nothing like the ones in Colorado. I’ve only been to one that has an actual ski lift (Chopok Jur (South)) which is equivalent to chair one at Loveland in terms of length, but by no means terrain. Most areas are accessible only by pomas, and the “lift lines” or rather poma lines that form in from of them are the biggest cluster*&%$* I have ever seen. There is no trace of order in the mob that starts to form right in front of the automated ticket scanner, no unspoken rules for alternating or letting the person in front of you actually remain in front of you. Instead people press up against each other, making sure to inch their skies forward every possible millimeter even if it means stepping on yours. The snow situation hasn’t been too gorgeous, so mostly we just ski groomers. But hey- beggars can’t be choosers.


Right now EGT is in the midst of ski week—yeah, we get to leave school to go practice our ski skills for an entire week. I would explain more, but I’ve rambled enough. I’ll get back on my horse soon, I promise…