August in Wanaka
What can I say? We skied. A lot. It was great.
Trish’s skiing is coming along nicely. She can keep up with me at my preferred pace, even if she is a little out of control at that speed. But she’s tough! Got airborne and hit a fence. Trish 3, Fence nil - both cross-members and paling broke, and Trish got up and skied away. Impressive.
I improved too. As usual the big improvements came right in the last minutes of the last day. I guess this is because my holiday is over anyway and I’m prepared to take more risk. I shared the lift with a fellow who took off with such confidence and good technique that I decided to follow and learn. He charged aggressively down a face I normally handle somewhat uncomfortably and at much lower speed, and I threw caution to the wind and gave chase.
That particular face is full of small moguls that are a bit crusty from refreeze, but charging down it much faster than common sense would allow was – surprisingly – easier.
It was very interesting how much “softer” the run was at a much higher pace. I can only surmise that it’s a bit like driving on corrugations: there’s an inertial limit to how fast your body can go up and down, and if you go fast enough even the unsprung portion starts to float over small stuff. So the refrozen crud stops mattering.
Of course, I can’t claim all the credit. Kate is a very good instructor and her coaching got my posture and balance on the mend in just one session. Next season I think I’ll start with a couple of days’ warm up and then another session. And then I’ll try a much higher pace.
Kate taught me a few things to do with balance and posture, which is what I asked for, but it’s more… dynamic. The right place to be depends on a lot of things not least among which is what’s going to happen next. When you leave the groom and get aggressive there’s no single right answer, except possibly “keep your options open”.
It’s about returning to the neutral position and gathering yourself to surge up and over each turn. It’s more energetic, but it’s so efficient you just rip along! On the groom in big lazy arcs each flowing into the next, and in the pills going up and like a cross between a jack-in-the-box and a machine-gun. No more excuses, now I have to be a lot fitter. I can do this. Now I want to be able to do it without breathing hard. Without breathing quite so hard.
I’d like to go back to Mt Hotham. I suspect I would enjoy it a lot more now. And Thredbo… I reckon I’d carve it up now. Or it might be disappointing and somehow smaller. You can dream, but you can never go back the way you came.