Serial Fiftieth Anniversaries (continued...)

Here's another 50th birthday story that's rather unsung, but is still as important to me. At that time, I was still living in the Alps, 5,340 miles away from Park City, and just around the corner, a new ski place was being readied for that same ski season.

The place was Avoriaz, a new ski area located over Morzine, France, the brainchild of Jean Vuarnet, one of its residents and recently minted Olympic Champion. There was a brand new tram (then dubbed "the fastest in the world"), one double chair (Les Foillis), a small poma next to it and a much longer Poma up at the very top of the mountain, in Arare.

The problem was that this was the thinnest snow season over the Alps in skiers' memory. It was when the first Innsbruck Winter Olympics were held, and at the time, the Austrian army rushed to the rescue hand-carrying 1.5 million cubic feet of snow inside buckets to the skiing venues. In Avoriaz, a rugged terrain didn't allow much skiing either until March and April of 1964, when the snow finally fell in sufficient quantity to cover most rocks.

It's precisely at that time that I skied in Avoriaz for the very first time. Boy, was I impressed! I remember dreaming of getting a job up there as a “lifty”. It's most certainly at that moment that I made a mental commitment to work up there, some day in my unspoiled future. I particularly remember the “Plan Brazy” Poma, its insane lay out with its brutal right angle turn preceding an almost vertical final climb!

With these stories in mind, you can understand why this winter season and these half-century old memories hold so much meaning for me!