For newbie skiers, however, the slopes can be a foreign and profoundly intimidating place. First of all: You need the skills. Skiing – unlike strolling the sea wall – requires a bit of training if you want to survive in one piece. Second, you need equipment – between boots, skis, poles and parkas, it can get a little overwhelming. Finally, there’s the price factor to consider: With lift tickets starting out around $60, skiing isn’t exactly cheap these days.
Of course, none of these obstacles are insurmountable. Yet they keep lots of visitors to Vancouver (and even some residents) off the slopes. This is really a shame. For a major city, Vancouver has exceptional skiing and snowboarding in its own backyard. And, to be honest, there’s not an abundance of other outdoor activities going on during the November-March rainy season.
With all that in mind, I set off to conquer my personal ski demons last weekend at Cypress Mountain . While I have skied before, it’s been a while – and I’ve never explored Cypress. Often regarded as the “biggest” of the North Shore Mountains, Cypress is actually great for beginners. For starters, they address all three newbie fears (skill, equipment and price) in one package. $139 gets you a half-day lesson, lift ticket and rentals (a bargain considering the lift ticket alone is $60 and rentals are $42).
At the rentals desk at Cypress Lodge, I’m lucky enough to be greeted by a friendly Englishman named Jon (just about everyone who works at Cypress seems to be a friendly Englishman or –woman). Jon sets me up with a half-day lesson, after having me sign my life away in a series of safety waivers (standard procedure, I’m told).
After paying for rentals, I head around back to pick up a pair of ski boots (far heavier and stiffer than I remembered), then clomp over to the ski section to be fitted with the right skis. Rentals nowadays have fat, wide tips, which apparently makes all the difference when starting out. Luckily, I’m assisted by Toby from New Zealand, who measures me up between sips of Red Bull.
I grab some poles (and a helmet – optional for $8) and am ready for my lesson. Ski school meets directly outside the lodge. And instructors, it seems, are handpicked for being the most patient and easygoing people on the planet.
I’ve actually skied all of four times in my life, so I’m promoted to the Explorer Group, for beginners who have already mastered the bunny hill. I get paired up with Nick from London, who spends winters teaching skiing at Tahoe, Whistler and Cypress and also runs a freestyle skiing school in England. “A lot of new skiers are scared away because they’re over-taught,” he says. “I’m here to watch you learn and make suggestions.” Joining our little group are Nile and Gemma – two fellow neophytes from Ireland, eager to learn and not afraid to fall trying.
We hop on the Eagle Express chairlift to the top of Black Mountain (elevation 1200 metres). It’s a foggy afternoon, which limits visibility but also limits the crowds – we practically have the slopes to ourselves. (One side note here: Getting on and off the chair is a bit tricky at first – but after the second or third time, it’s second nature.)
Up on top, Nick guides us to Cypress’s easiest green run: Panorama, which swoops its way gently back down the mountain. (If you’re a beginning skier, green means go for it. Runs progress upward in difficulty to blue and then black diamond and double black diamond.)
Nick has us practice centering ourselves on the skis – hopping up and down in the slushy March snow to get a better sense of balance. Then we start swishing down Panorama, slow at first, then gaining speed. Every so often, Nick stops and whips a few tricks out of his teacher’s bag. At one point, we’re holding our poles parallel to the ground in both hands, skiing and turning with just our legs in an exercise meant to keep the body pointed downhill while the skis shift left and right.
Having survived Panaroma, we head to Cypress’ next easiest run, Collins, accessed by the Lions Express Chair. It’s time to put the new skills into practice. I follow Nick as he traces wide, easy arcs down the slopes. Over the five-minute run, I take only one or two mild spills – an exponential improvement compared to previous trips.
After the lesson, the rest of the day is spent mastering the green runs on my own. By my seventh run – I’m ashamed to admit – my legs are already quaking with exhaustion. Little kids in Nancy Greene Ski School bibs are whipping by at twice my speed. Obviously there’s still a lot of work to be done, but I will admit to feeling just a little bit of triumph. For non-skiers, the world of the slopes can seem closed, distant and intimidating. But after being out there just a few times, it becomes clear how accessible skiing is – even for adults with no previous experience.
With any luck, I’ll be tackling Vancouver’s other backyard mountain – Grouse – before the spring melt.
