Skiing: 1963 to the present

I  started out on skis "World War II" Army surplus that looked just like these. The boots looked exactly like the above ones too in 1963. 

I had alwasy wanted to ski but my Dad thought skiing at a lift was just too expensive, so I asked if I could use his skis from World War II so this is what I learned to ski on in 1963 when I was 15 and lived in Glendale, California. If you live somewhere else you might think, "Where are you going to go ski close to Los Angeles?

Well, 45 minutes from Glendale is Mt. Waterman where there is a ski lift at around 7000 feet in altitude up hiway 2 up into the mountains past Chilao to Mt. Waterman where it often snows in the winters. However, the first time I remember skiing was when we were staying at a friends cabin in Yucca Valley before my Dad bought 2 1/2 acres out there and he and I and Mom built a retirement home out there for them from 1968 until 1980 when they retired on weekends.

We drove up towards Big Bear up a dirt road then that went all the way through to Big Bear. It stops in someone's property now half way though. But then, you could drive all the way from Yucca Mesa to Big bear up a basically 4 wheel drive road then and that is the first place I remember skiing.

The problem with skiing on these skis is that they don't release in an emergency so many people had sprained ankles, broken ankles and legs from skis that didn't ever release except manually when you wanted to take them off.

But because I was always very coordinated like my Dad and his brothers and sisters I always knew how far to take things without breaking something.

So, skiing always seemed to suit me, and snowshoeing and sledding. I always felt sort of like I was Jesus walking on water (frozen water) and liked the feeling.

So, when my best friend got run over by someone's skeg (fin) from their surfboard and had to recover for a month or two from that I decided there were just too many assholes who were surfers in 1969 and decided to take up skiing instead. And I did.

I rented skis for awhile until I married and moved to Mt. Shasta for the first time with my first wife in 1976 when I was 28. We went to Ashland where there was no sale tax (so I could save 10% on my skis). I bought Fisher skis, (two sets) one for myself and one for my wife then. But, they didn't have metal edges. I didn't buy a pair of metal edged cross country skis (mountaineering skis) until the 1980s. I got a wide pair that look like downhill skis then when one of my Fisher skis broke from fatigue then from skiing about 10 years on them. I went down into a gully and up and it was just too abrupt for them and one snapped where my right foot was right there. So, I still had to ski 2 miles back to my car with a broken ski. It was still connected to itself so I could manage that.

My worst ski accident other than being caught in an avalanche alone at 10,000 feet on Mt. Shasta was pulling my left hamstring. I kpt hitting ice and thinking I could recover but then I hit another patch which threw me into the splits and my pants tore out at the crotch and I was in severe pain. However, not being wealthy enough to afford a helicopter to come get me I opted for skiing out on one ski at that time (mid 1980s). It took me about 6 months to recover from a torn hamstring. If you can avoid an injury like this one it is a very long time to recover from while limping around and dragging one leg. But, eventually I was able to train the injured leg to walk normally after about 6 months healing time.

So, by next ski season I was skiing again as it is likely my favorite thing to do. Even now I'm 66 skiing in the wilderness away from most people through virgin snow is amazing and a very magical thing to do. It is one of the few things that takes me completely back to my childhood and what new fallen snow can do for your spirit in re-energizing and renewing a person. The fresh snow, the crispness of the air, the smell of the pine needles, the sights and sounds of 4 to 40 feet deep of snow all draw me back yearly to continue this favorite past time. And when friends join me it is all the better.

Here are people mountaineering skiing:

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