Ski Lessons

In Memory of my father, April 23, 1931-November 21, 2025

Photo by Kajetan Sumila on Unsplash

I learned to ski from my father. His were not the only lessons I took, but they are the ones that stuck with me.

Memories of Friday night skiing at Ski Acres come to me every time I travel across Washington’s Snoqualmie Pass. When I peer out the car window at the hills South of Interstate 90, I still see these slopes from a perch high in a chairlift: mogul runs framed by evergreen trees, side trails that cut across steep terrain, and skiers of every level scattered across the mountain. From this high roost, my father and I would assess if the snow was dry and powdery, wet and clumpy, or slick and icy. Then, based on the conditions, we decided how to tackle the hill.

We also talked about which classes I liked at school, his highlights, and challenges of teaching math at the local college, travel plans for the summer, and our dreams for the future. Often, when it was cold, we would sit side by side in silence, our faces hidden under scarfs and hats pulled down low.

From Years Spent on Ski Hills with my Father -- Here are Some of the Lessons I Learned

1. You don’t need fancy equipment to learn to ski. A pair of bright red, 180 cm skis from the Goodwill is fine equipment for your ten-year-old daughter. When she asks you why her skis are so much longer than all the other beginner’s, tell her that she will be better in the long run because she is learning on equipment that will make her do things right.

2. Ensure the most critical piece of equipment, the bindings, will release as needed. This may require adjustments. One way to do this, is to stand your subject on your workbench, in all her equipment, while you strike her heel with your fist.

You learn by trial and error that she needs something to hang on to, or she might shoot off the table.

Your daughter will be relieved that the “Bang, bang, bang” and scraping sound of metal on metal are an anomaly, and won’t be part of the general ski experience.

3. Part of learning to ski is (used to be) mastering the rope tow. It is not that hard. You just must get your skis underneath you, set them parallel from one another uphill, hold your poles under an armpit, and gradually clamp onto the rope while staying balanced.

If you fall while trying to grip the rope, and then fall again on a second attempt, crawl to the back of the line, so you don’t hold everyone else up.

If your body swings sideways and you start being pulled up the hill with your skis dangling below you, you have to let go. Then, you must quickly roll or scooch off the path or the skier behind you will fall too.

When you can’t get out of the way, the beginner below you will land on top of you. If the rope tow attendee isn’t paying attention and doesn’t turn off the rope tow motor, a third person may join the heap of arms, legs, skis, and poles.

Asking: “Why did you fall on me?” or “Why didn’t you get out of the way?” isn’t helpful.

4. Falling is to be expected. You just have to get back up.

5. Wearing the proper outdoor attire might mean squirming and itching during the car ride to the mountain. Long johns, socks, mittens, and hats should be made of wool. It is the only fabric that stays warm when wet.

6. You don’t need to learn the same way as everyone else. The first stage, the snowplow, can be skipped. An eager student can learn to turn by pointing her skis directly downhill, and then putting weight on the desired downhill ski. If this doesn’t work, collapsing is an acceptable way to stop.

7. Falling is to be expected. You just have to get back up.

8. There is no need to wait to eat your dinner. If you are hungry, or bored, you can open the crinkly paper bags your wife packed for your dinner, and eat the peanut butter sandwiches, apples, and cookies on the afternoon drive to the mountains.

Later, you can buy coffee or cocoa in paper cups that function as hand warmers. And if you are really hungry, maybe, just maybe, you can splurge on an order of french fries.

9. Sometimes, you just have to believe you know how to turn and point your skis downhill. Turning doesn’t work if you are standing still or going too slow.

10. Falling is to be expected. You just have to get back up.

11. When you lose control (and you will), it is best to fall early so you aren’t going too fast when you crash.

12. Night skiing is a bargain. You can go after work and pay less than half price. An added bonus is that you learn to ski on ice.

13. Falling is to be expected. You just have to get back up.

14. When you look down from the chairlift and see a glossy blue sheen reflected under the lights, and hear scraping sounds from skis on the hill below you, it is icy. You will need to be brave and point your skis downhill anyway. Your ankles and knees will grow strong as you learn to push the skis’ edges into the hillside.

15. Falling down is to be expected. You just have to get back up.

16. If your student has zoomed by you and is waiting for you somewhere down below, you can still decide this run is not safe, hike back up the hill, and take a different route down. Your daughter, at some point, will stop waiting for you and find you later at the lodge.

17. Falling is to be expected. But sometimes, it is best to do so on a flatter hill.

18. Your daughter will remember you standing on the ski slope patiently waiting for her as she learned to ski. She will also remember you happily following behind her when she learned to fly.