Part 20 (1/2)

”Well, it's not that you're doing anything wrong really.”

Sylvia nodded eagerly.

”But on a slope like this, I like to let the terrain help me make the turn, let the ski do what it's shaped to do. Actually, if you press the ski on its edge into the snow even slightly, it will start to turn.” I demonstrated. ”Bend each knee into the slope to put the skis on their edge.”

Sylvia tried it, but fell. She raised her gloved hands in the air and laughed. ”I'm such a klutz,” she said, ”but don't help me. I can do this myself.” She struggled to her feet.

Bob and Trevor watched all this with interest.

”The thing is,” I said, ”you have to change your approach on a steeper slope, otherwise you'll be going ninety miles an hour into a tree.”

”I knew there was more to it,” she said.

”Actually, you should practice making”-I hated to say it, since so many skiers considered it a beginner move-”snowplow turns, in tight arcs, very slowly. Because that's what you need to be able to do on a steeper slope if you get into trouble. Also, as a last resort, you can always stop and side-step down the slope until you reach a place you feel confident.”

”Snowplow turns? I thought I was all done with those.”

”They come in handy,” I said, ”and even good skiers resort to them if they get in a really tough spot.”

”Well then, let's try a more difficult blue run,” she said.

I didn't think she could handle it, and I didn't want to be the one responsible should she get hurt. ”I really think you should practice the snowplow turns first. It's not as easy as-”

”Oh, everybody knows how to do those.”

”Yes,” I said slowly, patiently, ”they do, for most situations. But you have to realize that a good percentage of the blue intermediate runs here on Ajax are steeper than on say, b.u.t.termilk, or even Snowma.s.s.”

”Well, I have to try sometime, and I feel like trying now.”

I was wondering if the wine she'd downed at lunch had something to do with her bravado now. I looked to Trevor to talk the woman out of it.

Bob skied up to her. ”It's kind of late in the day. I'm getting a little tired. Aren't you?”

”No, I'm not that tired. I plan to celebrate in the bar after we're done. My first steep run on Aspen Mountain.” She slid away from him, trying to arc her skis as I'd demonstrated, but fell flat again, losing both skis.

We took Spar Gulch to Grand Junction and made a left turn into Kleenex Corner, then headed toward a blue section called Magnifico. At the very least, it was one of the shorter blue sections on Ajax.

Though it looked easy to me, I knew it wouldn't to Sylvia. The slope dropped off sharply from the easy catwalk we'd been skiing.

Sylvia stared at it, looking back and forth as if trying to decide.

”You don't have to do this, Sylvia,” Bob cautioned. ”I think you should wait.”

”Yes,” said Trevor. ”Let's continue on down the catwalk. You can save this for tomorrow.”

”No,” she said. ”I want to do it. It's just snowplow turns, right? And I can do those.”

Bob shook his head. ”Sylvia, this is no time to try and prove something. You're not-”

She shot him a look. ”That's not what I'm doing at all. Gwyn, show me again what I'm supposed to do.”

I looked toward Trevor, but his face was unreadable.

”Okay,” I said, ”if we're going to do this, then we need to do it safely. What we'll do is have you traverse across the slope, slowly. First, you'll get into your snowplow position, then traverse across the hill, then plow to a stop. Sound good?”

”Yes, I can do that.”

”This would be a good place to start.” I pointed to a spot near me on the left side of the slope. ”From here you'll ski across the hill at a slight angle. And remember, never, ever, point your skis downhill unless you're in your snowplow. In fact, you should keep the skis in a snowplow the entire time.”

Sylvia slid into position. I skied to a spot down the slope twenty feet below her on the far right side, then waved for Trevor and Bob to join me. Together we formed a line across the hill. ”You can ski toward us. If you do pick up speed, we'll stop you. Use a wide snowplow, Sylvia, really wide. Make sure you don't let the skis come together.”

She adjusted her skis, pointing the tips together, her knees bent inward, inches from each other. The tails of the skis were spread apart so that the skis formed a V-shape.

”No-spread the tails wider than that,” I said, ”as far as you can.”

”I'll split my pants,” she said, but spread the skis.

”I know it's awkward, but that's the only position that will really slow you down on a steep slope, and it's important to be aggressive and maintain it. Now one last thing. If you do get out of control-and you shouldn't-fall, just lean over and fall. That will stop you.”

”Okay.” She took a deep breath and exhaled, then with a slight smile began plowing slowly forward. She managed to ski to us and stop. ”I'm a little nervous,” she said, then looked for sympathy from Trevor.

”You're doing fine,” he said.

She continued in this fas.h.i.+on on down the slope. Once, she lost control and slid into us, but everyone laughed, not hurt.

About a quarter of the way down, Sylvia seemed to become a little more at ease with the steepness, and managed twice to traverse across the hill, turn and traverse in the other direction. She stopped and smiled. ”I think I can make it the rest of the way down on my own. I don't need you standing there anymore.”

I was about to object, but knew she wouldn't listen. Plus I was still angry. Fine, I thought, you're the boss.

”Sylvia, I don't think it's a good idea,” Bob said.

”I didn't ask what you thought, Bob.”

Trevor kept his mouth shut, but I caught a slight shake of his head.

My guess was that she was trying to impress Trevor, or maybe all of us, otherwise I couldn't see why she'd take the risk.

”You don't need to worry about me,” she said, looking back as she started off. ”I've got this down.”

For a time, it looked as if Sylvia might be right, but I knew that even a second's lapse of concentration could be a serious mistake surrounded by trees as we were. In spite of my anger, I decided to remind her of my previous advice. ”Remember, Sylvia, if something goes wrong, make yourself fall. Just lay yourself out on the snow.”

She never even turned her head.

We followed her down, and I watched each time she eased into the fall line-the most direct route down the face and the most critical-and held my breath until she'd crossed it and again traversed the hill. We still had half the slope to cover and I could see her legs twitch from the effort her muscles were making to control her speed. Any minute now, I kept thinking.

I knew it would happen, and I saw exactly what started it all. She crossed her tips, only for a moment, but that was all it took. As she turned into the fall line, the skis jerked, locked up, and surprised by it, Sylvia came out of the snowplow and let the skis go parallel.

A split second later, she shot off down the mountain at warp speed.

”Fall,” I cried out, taking off after her. ”Fall, dammit.”