Learning the slopes

Winter Park, Colo. | Even a 'hotshot' skier can pick up some tips during group ski lessons

WINTER PARK, Colo. - After nearly a half hour of threading a path across the side of a mountain through closely packed trees and knee-deep, feathery snow, we emerged onto a perfectly pitched run of nearly untouched powder.

That was the moment my skepticism about a trip that involved skiing in a group with an instructor - all day, every day - melted away.

In all modesty, I think of myself as a hotshot skier, able to propel down just about anything, even though I might not always look pretty doing it.

The prospect of listening to an instructor for four straight days didn't seem to enticing, but the amazing price tag -- $1,175 for a six-day trip to Winter Park, Colo., including airfare from Chicago, lodging, five days of lift tickets, instruction, parties and a couple of meals - helped change my mind.

And there was the lure of winter Park. I'd never been to the three-mountain complex owned by the city of Denver that is the terminus of the famous ski train running from the city right to the slope every weekend. (An Amtrak train from Chicago also stops in the nearby town of Winter Park.)

Thanks to new lifts, vast territory expansion and base development paid for by a private company that has leased the area from Denver since 2002, the resort is rapidly losing its reputation as a locals-only destination.

The deal on the trip came courtesy of Ralph Martino, a Chicago ironworker I had bonded with on a ski club jaunt to Europe a few years back.

Martino is just a regular guy who wants to keep learning how to ski better. He clicked with the Winter Park instructors on a commercially packaged tour, wanted to come back and figured he could do it cheaper himself. For the last four years he has been organizing - on a nonprofit basis - a ski week at Winter Park for a group that has grown to nearly 40 people, all by word of mouth.

We arrived at the resort, a mere 67 miles from Denver, on Dec. 12 That's a little early in the season to guarantee good snow but we lucked out. The day before, the skies dumped nearly two feet of snow.

But by the next morning when we first clicked into our bindings, powder hounds had skied out all the easily reachable pristine snow. I could have gone looking for powder alone, but I decided to give the class a try.

Our skiers separated into groups of about five to eight according to ability and inclination. I opted for a group that would work on bumps and powder, areas where I figured I could stand a little improvement.

After a couple of warm-ups on intermediate blue cruisers, our instructor, 19-year Winter Park veteran Chris McKearney, led us to a bump run Goldilocks would have loved. Not too steep, not too big. Just right for working on technique. And still fluffy and forgiving, not the icy, bulletproof mounds I am accustomed to in Wisconsin and Michigan.

McKearney's tips helped, but what helped just as much was the chance to do it over and over again. Following him down the mountain, watching his elegant, effortless style, I found that some of it rubbed off on me.

The formal "lesson" lasted only an hour or so. The rest of the time we just skied, with McKearney occasionally coming up with a new slant to help us out of a rut.

Doing heavy lessons all day, every day is counterproductive, McKearney said.

"You're not going to get a lot more additional information over four days than you would in one, because you can only take in so much, so quickly," he said. "It's basically guided practice time that allows you time to cement what you learn so you can build on it later."

We didn't have to worry about getting lost or even carrying trail maps. Before lunch, McKearney would whip out his phone and make reservations at a restaurant at the base of the mountain. He then treated us to his 25 percent employee discount.

Winter Park itself was a revelation. While not as big as Vail, it has three mountains and 3,000 acres of swooping cruisers, thigh-punishing elevator-drop bumps, snowboard terrain parks and tamer green runs for beginners.

We stayed at the Vintage, a hotel five minutes away by shuttle bus. The town of Winter Park is a 10-minute ride from the area. It has some great restaurants, but nightlife is sparse. If you must dance till dawn, you'll be better off in Vail or Breckenridge.

We didn't come to dance. We came to ski. And back on the slopes on day two, McKearney's local knowledge continued to pay off for us.

He knew that an expert run called Gambler was unreachable and, as a result, full of untracked powder. It was unreachable because the lift serving it hadn't opened yet. But the run next to it was lift-served and open for business.

All we had to do was make an adventurous shortcut through the woods and there we were, ready for our powder lesson. In an instant, I was floating down 300 vertical feet of crystalline magic, linking more consecutive turns in the deep stuff than I ever had before.

It got even better.

On day three, they cut the ribbon on a newly built lift serving the previously closed Parsenn Bowl. The lift would offer access to even more snow that had since fallen on top of the earlier two-foot dump.

Thanks to McKearney, we were there.

Rather than come down the windblown bowl, McKearney guided us to the Parry's Peak ridge run. When we reached a certain point, he led us on a leftward plunge off the ridge into the longest powdery tree run I'd ever seen. Once again, he had rightly judged our ability. Trees were spaced close enough to get the adrenaline flowing, but not enough to evoke total terror.

Eight hundred vertical feet later, I was exhausted but thrilled to have survived skiing at this level -- and looking pretty good while doing it, too.

The fifth day we were on our own, and I got to ski with other people from our group and compare notes. Everyone, from beginners to advanced, said they would be going home better skiers than when they arrived.

Dave Herd, an accomplished club ski racer from Chicago, said he had taken lessons with four different Winter Park instructors over the last four years. "They all have something to add and my skiing has really improved," he said. "I think it's a great way to start the season. These guys make it so fun to ski and they teach you at the same time."

Herd also pointed out that my turns had become smoother and more graceful over the week.

So maybe I didn't start out such a hot shot after all.