learning to Ski after age 60

By Janice Bennett

Skiers on the Outback Chairlift, Keystone Ski Area, Colorado. Photo by John Kieffer

f you think you can do it, you can.” This popular maxim from John Burroughs, a 19th-century naturalist in the U.S. conservation movement, forms the basis of the American dream. I began hiking with the Colorado Mountain Club at age 59, hoping that the exercise would relieve stress. I hiked many easier trails, went snowshoeing, and even finished Wilderness Trekking School. Nevertheless, I grew up being told that I was not athletic. So when Lynn, a friend who is a Swiss-trained expert skier, urged me to take up downhill skiing two years later, I really didn’t believe I could, especially at my age.

In WTS I learned about avalanches, which bury many skiers in the Rockies every year. Wilderness First Aid taught me that hypothermia is a life-threatening condition that occurs when the body temperature drops below normal. I knew how to dress for cold weather and survived WTS Snow Day at St. Mary’s Glacier, in spite of eight hours spent outdoors in more than two feet of fresh snow, accompanied by 40-60 mph winds.

Mastering the terms of “skiology,” however, was a daunting proposition. Angulation, for example, involves arcing the body at the hip, knee, and ankle joints to achieve a high degree of ski edge. Flex adjustment involves changing the amount of resistance to the forward movement of the ankle. The thought of traversing on crud or struggling with problems like prerelease, which occurs when the skis come off earlier than expected, terrified me. I was certain I would hit a tree, fly through the air, and break all my bones.

Lynn related stories of 90-year-olds he had encountered on ski slopes, one wearing an oxygen mask. His acquaintances included 80-year-old twins who took up skiing for the first time at age 65. Although they weren’t the fastest skiers, as he described their graceful, dancing form and taut bodies, I began to think skiing at my age might actually be possible.

An Internet ski blog reassured me that learning to ski is great at any age. “We’re never too mature to increase our level of physi-

Skiers and snowboarders at the top of Arapahoe Basin Ski Area, Colorado. Photo by John Kieffer

cal activity,” asserted Lynne Stainbrook, a French ski instructor. “It’s our prime time. We’re still very much alive and eager to enjoy the mountains, the moment and ourselves. As we get older, we understand our capabilities and limitations and set our own personal, realistic goals. We don’t measure our personal worth by speed of descent, hang back recoveries, or number of vertical meters logged.”

Skiing builds coordination, he said, as well as strength and fitness. Physical activity has beneficial effects on the heart and blood vessels. Increased coordination transports antioxidants and nutrients to joints, muscles, and bones, reducing stiffness, aches, and pains. Enhanced circulation builds a more robust immune system, increasing heart muscle mass and elasticity, resulting in fewer colds and flu, less heart disease, cancer, stroke, diabetes, and lower back problems.

During skiing the body releases endorphins, opiate-like substances produced naturally by the body, which relieve stress and produce a natural energy boost. Skiing improves overall fitness, creates a positive emotional state, reduces pain, increases flexibility, and helps one sleep soundly. “So, seniors, get out of the armchair and onto the chairlift,” the instructor advised.

I found several websites that explain ski maneuvers, complete with illustrations and 3D animated videos. I decided to familiarize myself with the most common techniques, such as longitudinal weight distribution. This means that because most control comes from the edges of the skis, the body’s weight needs to be in the middle of the ski in order to push the edges into the snow evenly. The bindings are set back from the middle, however, making it necessary to lean forward, which also pushes the toe back from the end of the boot. If the weight is too far back, the front of the skis will not push into the snow and can even come into the air altogether. “Lean forward” was all I really needed to remember.

As I studied the websites, I realized that skiing cannot be learned in a day. Reading about techniques like snow plough turns, parallel turns, pole planting, flat lining, stem turns, carving, sliding sideways, and mogul skiing—even with diagrams—would never substitute for learning on the slopes. Even the simplest maneuvers, like putting on skis and taking them off, or getting on a chairlift, involve techniques best learned with an instructor.

My first day of skiing was at A-Basin, which has three learning areas, two with magic carpets and another with a chairlift. I headed for the chairlift, the most difficult of the three, because I didn’t even see the other two. Terrified, I slid up to the lift and let two or three chairs pass by. Getting on was hard enough, but dismounting was much worse and I promptly fell. Beginners were scattered all over the hill like dominoes. I started sliding a few times but, without knowing how to stop, I was out of control. I heard Lynn, my friend and teacher, yell, “Fall!” a few times, so I tumbled into the snow. I was so discouraged that I quit for the day.

The following week I discovered the easiest bunny slope, equipped with a small magic carpet. I felt a little silly skiing in the “Pica” area with two- to four-year-old children, but mastered it

Top Left: Falling by the chairlift at Arapahoe Basin. Top Right and bottom Left: Skiing the “Pica” area at Arapahoe Basin. Photos by Lynn Baird. Bottom Right: Saffron Bennett-Spurlock and Scott Bennett ride the chairlift at Loveland Ski Area, providing inspiration to persevere at a time when I most wanted to give up. Photo by Scott Bennett.

easily. On this slope, it was impossible to pick up any speed and I never fell once. Although rather embarrassing, it gave me a sense of balance and control. I rode up the magic carpet over and over again, bored, but as happy as a child.

On the third trip, the ski area was packed with skiers after Christmas and the temperature was only four degrees. At the steeper magic carpet area, the conveyor belt was covered with a light snow, which made me slip backwards as I started up. I felt terrified at the top and attempted a few runs. I managed to stay on my skis by keeping my weight forward, but my hands were soon freezing so I headed for the lodge.

The fourth day was fairly balmy, around 26 degrees. I did a few runs on the “Pica” slope, and then went to the more difficult magic carpet and made my way down the slope before attempting the chairlift again. This time I was elated that I didn’t fall getting off the chair. I did an extremely short run that ended at the side of the slope because I couldn’t make the turn. I had to take off my skis because I kept sliding backwards and couldn’t get them back on without falling. With my legs twisted in unnatural positions, the beginner slope suddenly looked incredibly steep and I panicked. Another woman, much younger than I, was fumbling around in the snow, going nowhere. At least I wasn’t alone.

I finally began to work my way down the hill, skis in hand. A sympathetic staff worker offered to carry my skis, as I complained that I didn’t know what I was doing. She confided that she was a snowboarder and thought skiing was difficult. She had tried it a few times on this slope and was surprised at how fast one is propelled down the hill.

My next ski day at A-Basin, I attempted the chairlift again. I skied off easily, but panicked as I looked down the slope. I tentatively turned left, but suddenly lost control and fell at the edge of the magic carpet because I couldn’t stop. On another run, my skis slipped and I took off down the slope, but soon fell backwards so hard I felt it for a week. I was now absolutely convinced skiing was not for me. Besides, it wasn’t much fun being passed by fearless two-year-olds who looked like pros.

In the meantime, I discussed skiing with my seven-year-old granddaughter, who had been taking lessons at Loveland for several years and is now skiing black diamond slopes. One day, after deciding not to ski due to forecasted snow, I saw a photo of her posted on Facebook, riding up a chairlift in her ski gear, wearing a big smile. I really felt stupid now and resolved to keep trying.

Two days later I returned to A-Basin. At the top of the chairlift, I attempted to turn left, but stopped immediately, terrified. I then tried to turn right, but my skis got tangled and I fell. When I was finally back on my skis, my friend, who was completely bored by now, said he would meet me in about twenty minutes. I started to slowly make my way down the slope, alone. As I picked up speed,

I thought I was going to hit the post of the chairlift, so I turned my right ski downhill a bit. That slight movement propelled me down the slope full speed. In spite of wedging as best I could, I was now going faster than I ever had before. The wind was whistling past my ears as I flew by the chairlift, still on my skis and headed for the parking lot.

As Lynn was riding up Black Mountain Express with two other passengers, he pointed me out on the slope. “Look at the woman in the turquoise jacket,” he commented. “She’s a beginner and is really moving.” A woman asked, “Where is she going?” Lynn answered, “I don’t know… she just passed by the chairlift and is headed for the parking lot.” “Well, she’s going,” the woman replied. “Good for her, and she didn’t even fall.” I must admit I was thrilled I didn’t end up on the hood of a car. In Lynn’s mind, I was now the fearful Snow Bunny turned Granny Racer Rabbit.

The turning point finally came after I went to Ski and Golf in Littleton, in search of new skis that might make skiing easier. After deciding on a pair of rockers, the salesman, who was older than I am, urged me to sign up for lessons. I explained that I already had a teacher, but he insisted that it is much easier to learn with a stranger. So, the next trip to A-Basin, I signed up for a two-hour lesson for those who have never skied before. There were about ten of us, all with previous experience, and I was the oldest. The instructor took us rapidly through exercises on all three bunny slopes and, sure enough, after two hours I was skiing.

The decisive moment was when the teacher explained that I could go down the steepest bunny slope as slowly as I wanted, and showed me how to do it. I found it easy to make the turns simply by turning my entire body more than I had been doing, using my arms. I discovered that wedging wasn’t enough to slow down and stop—it was necessary to bend my knees and really open up the back of the plow, turning at the same time to stop. Once I learned those essentials—turning, slowing, and stopping—I was finally on my way. Yes, I could do it after all!

My advice to anyone who might want to try skiing is that if I can learn to ski, you will likely learn in half the time and wonder why you didn’t start sooner. One of the biggest advantages of learning when older is that a more flexible schedule allows you to ski during the week when the slopes are relatively empty. Without the crowds, you won’t have to worry about colliding with other skiers, getting passed by toddlers, and fighting the traffic on I-70. Best of all, once you learn, skiing is not only easier than snowshoeing, it also tightens muscles you didn’t know existed. Then you, too, can join the growing ranks of skiers who proudly proclaim, “I learned to ski after age 60.” △