How I became a skier...

Yesterday, my wife asked me how I learned to ski. This was something I had never, ever asked myself. I actually began skiing when I was 7 on a pair of skis entirely handmade by my Dad. My older brother got a pair too, albeit a bit longer, and we went skiing at a place called “le tremplin” (the ski jump) just 250 yards from our home. We would side-step up the hill and schuss down, go over the jump, land and end up with a hockey stop.

Later, I participated into a school cross-country race which I found to be horrible. After that, I managed a few outing on the nearby “télébenne” that was 2 miles from my parents house and required carrying skis and poles both ways. Quite an undertaking. When I was 10 or 12, my parents bought me my first pair of manufactured skis, a pair of Duret “Contreplaqué” and I would again, occasionally go the the “télébenne” with our middle school. I remember envying my more fortunate comrades whose parents had hotels and small businesses, that were members of the Morzine ski club with their Rossignol “Soupless” or their “Dynamic” skis outfitted with Look Nevada bindings...

When I was a teenager, I finally got a job as a lifty with Le Pleney, a local mountain, worked there every Christmas, February and Easter school holidays and also earned the privilege to ride the lifts free during the week-ends in-between. That's when my skiing began to take off. Up until that point, I had received no lesson whatsoever. I just learned by observing and imitating other skiers and not necessarily the best! It's only when I began teaching skiing at the Avoriaz ski school that I had to attend a ski-instructor clinic in Chamrousse, near Grenoble, France, when I received my first pointers. Later on, in Avoriaz, I received some sporadic coaching, but by in large, I was very much on my own and taught myself how to ski...