Get thee into the woods

By Matt Boxler

Last season at Sugarbush, I had the chance to ski with, actually more like, ski behind, John Egan. He took me through every terrain feature the mountain had to offer – flats, steeps, trees, bumps, powder and groomed … you name it.

Egan, of course, effortlessly negotiates any and all terrain with precision and flair – frontwards and backwards. As we road the chairlift up for another run, he shared his thoughts on teaching kids to become versatile skiers.

“Get them in the woods!” he said.

I looked him in the eyes. This wasn’t a crazed extreme skiing adrenaline junkie with a couple screws loose talking (granted, there are far too many of those around). This was a master of his craft, an athletic talent who is truly interested in passing on what he has learned to others. It made perfect sense. Kids who learn to ski in the woods learn how to turn, not run out of control. They learn to adapt. They learn to be alert, to feel changing surface conditions and steepness.

I’m not a kid, but neither am I ready to retire to the wide-open pastures groomed in corduroy down the middle of the mountain. For me, the real thrill of the sport exists beyond the reach of the snowcats. There’s no better feeling than floating in knee-deep powder, than flying off a lip mid-carve and landing a few dozen feet below in perfect rhythm, than wending flawlessly through a tight tree run, or than getting the blood pumping by attacking a bump run with zest.

I know, the aching knees and aching backs of advancing age are hard to ignore when looking down the mountain and perusing your choices. The reason Egan makes skiing ungroomed terrain look so effortless is because, for him, it is. He has mastered the fundamentals of the sport – the bounce pass if you will, the positioning, dribbling and shooting technique. For him, the flow of skiing is simply about execution. For the kids learning to ski in the woods, it’s not about gut-wrenching knee bends and sudden impacts – it’s about having fun. When executed correctly, an ungroomed run can be as effortless as a groomed run. In fact, it can be more energizing.

Skiing is about challenging oneself. Otherwise, why even bother to leave your swiveling office chair behind for a detachable one? And haven’t we learned that we can’t control Mother Nature? We don’t try to heat the ocean so it feels like your bathtub when you step into it, so why do we try to comb the mountain? It isn’t natural. And do you think all this money being invested in grooming machines is having an influence on our lift ticket prices to boot?

I’m not suggesting resorts eliminate trails groomed as wide as football fields. It’s a thrill to lay these new carving skis on edge and feel the G-forces of high-speed GS turns (even if it produces that alarming sound you hear in your car when you veer off the road onto the grooved highway). But that’s not what I’m paying upwards to $70 to do all day. For the average Joe and the not-so-average John, there is simply no reason to ignore what the rest of the mountain has to offer. Going to a mountain and staying on the groomed slopes is like going to a concert but spending the entire time in the car listening to the CD instead.

I’m not a crazed adrenaline junkie, but I do like to feel alive. That’s why I drive to the mountains and venture off the beaten (groomed) path.