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Design for Living by Cat Smiley, ISSA
Surrendering to skiing began with me in jeans, heading down the slopes with local
Kiwi farmers in almost any weather conditions. Rain frozen at a diagonal angle?
No problem! Nothing could touch my core when I was up in the clouds, clicked into
a pair of skis.
Growing up skiing on one of the planet's darkest mountain zones taught
me the joy of skiing from an early age. Mt. Ruapahua, a live volcano similar to
Mt. Saint Helens, was my sanctuary. This monster was smack in the middle of New
Zealand's barren desert land. From the edge of a bubbling mountain crater
spewing water hot enough to boil an egg, you could see both the Tasman Sea and
Pacific Ocean. The only reason people braved the rugged mountain conditions was
to ski. There were no cushy gondolas, just rusty chairlifts squeaking and grinding
up vertiginous peaks, with nets installed under the windier spots to catch anyone
who had the misfortune to get blown off their perch. People didn't, or
couldn't, ski to be seen - the predominantly whiteout conditions took care
of that.
One day Mt. Ruapahua exploded. At the time I was on the chairlift with my little
sister and sirens screamed their lava alerts across the valley. With the ground
quivering, everyone made a frantic scramble for a high area - grabbing their children
and trying to get out of any low-lying paths which flowing lava might seek out.
After evacuation later that night, the mountain started to erupt, ejecting ash
and magma (killing a few ski patrollers) and growing into one of the planet's
greatest wonders. Geologists flocked from around the world to track this crazy
Kiwi phenomenon and for once New Zealand made international news for something
other than rugby.
They say you never get over your first love, I certainly never did. When you fall
hard for skiing, it seems natural that your world gets turned upside down - yet
like a clingy girlfriend, you'll never feel you're getting enough
time with the object of your affection.
Ski resorts are boomerang towns - they'll toss you out, but you'll
always return for more. It all depends on how much you love skiing. If you want
to ski, you will no matter what, even if you have to run away from home, get fired
from every job, and dump every boyfriend who can't handle the fact that
you ski better than he does.
I tried to leave my love once. After 14 back - to - back ski - bumming winters
(southern hemisphere in summer, northern hemisphere in the winter), I gave in
to society and went to university in a city one hour away from a ski hill. Withdrawal
symptoms were an understatement and my abstinence lasted half a ski season. Like
an alcoholic progressing from swigging vodka all day long to a few crantinis a
week, the change in lifestyle was simply too hard to handle. I wanted to complete
my degree, so I worked out a way to study by correspondence. This was possibly
the most challenging time in my life; I now had even less hours in the day to
earn money, as my nights were spent studying. At the time I was living in my friend's
walk-in wardrobe in Chamonix, France with two other girls in the room. I claimed
the closet for mine, as I could close the door and work on my assignments. This
was the season I started instructing - hanging out on bunny hills helping acrylic-garbed
New Yorkers find gloves that fit and teaching three-year olds to snowplow.
Yet as I moved up the ranks of ski school, I quickly began to enjoy living a more
comfortable lifestyle, sharing my passion. The opportunity to empower total strangers
with the skiing spirit is real joy. Now I split my ski time between competing,
filming, training, instructing and hitting the backcountry peaks with powder-hungry
friends. It's a huge bonus to have support through endorsements, prize
money and the rest of it - being able to live the dream as a skier. The best job
in the world perhaps?
A good day on the hill can have great impact on a person, with the perfect release
from the daily grind. Some of my students have gone on to uproot themselves from
urban environments and move to ski towns. This transition is smoother when you
already have assets or a good job lined up - or perhaps a business that can run
well without you, or investments. It is mostly the younger crowd that goes through
grunge accommodations while making ends meet with menial jobs, yet much depends
on what lifestyle you are leaving, or the company that hires you when you move
to the ski resort. Many jobs will house their employees in nice accommodations,
and if not, hopefully you will work in a job well paying enough to afford a place
to live.
Fantasy meets reality pretty quickly. Career paths will be snow-based and everything
else, including relationships, will come second to living the dream. Starting
out you'll more likely find yourself living in laundry rooms at the base
of snowy mountains than paying a mortgage on a house with a white picket fence.
Depending on your stage in life, any job will do - as long as it doesn't
conflict with fresh tracks on a powder day. In ski resorts everyone has a story
from the cab driver with a Ph D, to the coffee girl taking a year off from being
a surgeon. Passion drives these people to live on an income usually far less than
they would normally earn.
Passion can make our world turn in crazy directions, and you never know how far
it will take you. You may not fall in love with skiing, but at least you won't
die wondering what it's like. Regardless of your ability, when the wind presses
against your cheeks and you're grinning ear to ear as you ski your last run, you'll
feel on top of the world. After all, there's no such thing as a bad day on the
mountain.
It's never too late to give skiing a go. I once taught an 84-year-old man
how to snowboard, his first time seeing snow. It is definitely worth hiring a
qualified ski instructor to show you the ropes when starting out. These days,
most ski resorts keep the price of there learn-to-ski packages at very competitive
rates.
Mount Seymour, Cypress Bowl and Grouse Mountain are all a short distance from
downtown Vancouver and can be accessed by public transit. Once there, beginner
packages start as low as $75 based on four sessions and cover equipment rentals,
lessons and lift passes.
Two hours north of Vancouver lies Whistler and Blackcomb, the mother of all ski
resorts. Here packages begin at around $135 per day, based on three days and include
rentals, lessons and lift passes.
Alberta hosts an array of fantastic ski resorts, close to Calgary. Great beginner
slopes include Fortress Mountain, Lake Louise and Mt. Norquay - all enticing beginners
with inviting packages.
Family ski vacations are a lot of fun for all - for those on a budget, smaller
resorts are often cheaper. Red Mountain at Rossland for example, is simply magnificent
and not far from Vancouver.
Cat Smiley is a pro free-skier / personal
trainer, living in Whistler. She was national freestyle champion in NZ and recently
placed fourth for half pipe in the Global X Games championships. Cat is a member
of the Atomic, Helly Hansen and Bolle Freeride teams. www.catsmiley.com
1-604-902-0698
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