Secrets in the Snow, Volume 1: Early season stories from the White Cairns Ski School drama series
Page 4
Colin was lounging the top of the group, polishing his shades and studiously avoiding watching Marty.
"Colin, looks like you're first," Marty said, "out you come. Falling leaf."
Colin stood and shuffled out from the top of the group whilst Marty unstrapped his back foot and peg-legged back up to the group. "On you go!"
Colin slid a bit stickily down the hill to the right and stopped with a judder.
"Keep it moving! Change direction," called Marty.
Colin shot off to the left, at a steeper angle than before.
"Slower! Turn!"
But Colin was going too fast and struggled to turn the snowboard on the sticky artificial slope, finally stopping with his board half off the edge of the mat, and losing his balance so he had to put his right hand down to stop himself falling over. "Bloody plastic," he said, "I hate it!"
Marty had to fight hard not to smirk. "It's not as easy as snow, you're right. Now, hop back up to the group whilst Zoë has a go."
Mike pushed off from the side where he'd been watching Marty's lesson and said, loud enough so they could all hear, "Hold up!"
"LET'S USE THIS as an opportunity to look at teaching technique," said Mike. "Say you've got someone in your group who struggles with an exercise you've demonstrated. Why might that be?"
They all looked at him like they thought it was a trick question.
"Marty?"
Marty looked sideways at Colin. "Cos they're not a good enough boarder?" Colin gave him a filthy look.
"If that were truly the case, then perhaps you didn't choose the right exercise for the group? But in this case, you're all more than capable, and it was me who chose the exercise anyway. Can anyone think of another reason?" Mike said.
Simon raised a hand. "They had, like, an understanding problem?"
Mike nodded. "Yes, it could be that they didn't understand the exercise properly. Perhaps you didn't demo it clearly, or perhaps you didn't explain to them properly how to do it." He took his shades off and motioned with his hand, "Remember, 'show and tell'. Show them first, then tell them how."
He motioned at Colin, "Colin, come out and have another go. Slower this time."
Even though he was on two skis rather than a single board, he demonstrated the movement. "Start by putting some weight over your front foot."
Colin moved off to the right and managed a smoother slide.
"When you want to change direction, turn your head left to look where you're going and change the weight to your back foot."
Colin's angle was more appropriate this time, and he made a better effort at the exercise.
"Good, that was sweet as!" He turned to the group. "So, firstly, choose the right exercise, then demo it well, emphasising the movements, next explain how to do it and finally let the class have a go, giving them appropriate feedback along the way."
-::-
Over in the skier group, Pamela was describing a snowplough exercise, but the others were looking puzzled. She had them come out and try it, one-by-one. Debbie was first, but since she didn't really understand what Pamela wanted her to do, she lost control of one ski and had to slam on the anchors, nearly falling over. She glanced over at Mike, watching them, and looked even more mortified when Pamela started shouting at her, "No, not like that, like this!"
She demonstrated a snowplough where she alternated flattening the skis and angling them again, which caused her to speed up and then slow down again.
Sandy had joined the skier group to make up the numbers, and he was next to go. The older man's stiffer ankles meant he also struggled with the exercise, and Pamela just sighed and shook her head in disgust. She turned to Callum, who was next to go, and said, "Callum, see if you can show us how it's done? Properly?"
Callum slid out from the group as if he'd been born on skis, and executed the exercise with much more fluidity and panache than Pamela had shown when she demonstrated it.
When he finished, he turned to her and said, "But what's the point? Why would you make a beginner do that? They won't have enough control over their feet and skis, they'll just lose confidence."
Before she could answer, Mike swooped over to the group and intervened, "Thanks, Pamela, we'll move it on to someone else, now. Debbie, would you like to take over, and maybe work on improving their snowplough turns?"
-::-
Debbie shuffled out from the group and turned herself round to face them, her face still burning from the humiliation of not being able to do Pamela's exercise. Mike would think she was really useless. I'd better do a good job of my lesson.
"Good morning everyone, today we're going to be looking at improving your snowplough turns."
She wracked her brains to think of something that she could do with her class that would impress Mike. Kites? No, she shouldn't overcomplicate things. Keep it simple, stupid! Maybe she could use one of the exercises that she used with the kids on the dry slope back home?
"Okay, right, remember the pizza shapes we worked on last time? Well, we're going to pick up the forks and knives so we can eat our pizza." She proceeded to take them through an exercise where they leaned over and picked up an imaginary piece of cutlery, the weight change causing them to turn across the slope.
Whilst Sandy was picking up his 'fork', she looked across and saw Mike standing at the side of the slope, watching. She couldn't see his eyes because of his shades, and his face was a blank. Why had she chosen a stupid kiddy exercise? He probably thought she didn't know how to teach adults. I’ll never get the job now.
MIKE HAD SEEN enough of their teaching. Now he needed to see them skiing for themselves, so he could assess their technical ability.
He turned to the snowboard group and said, "Okay guys, that's enough lessons for now. Let's have a look at your free riding. Head down to the lift and then meet me at the top of the slope."
He left them strapping into their boards, and went over to the ski group to give them the same message.
-::-
One at a time they slid off the tow and grouped together at the top of the short slope. Whilst they waited, the skiers clipped their boots tighter, zipped up jackets or leaned nervously on their poles. In contrast, the snowboarders looked much more relaxed as they sat or kneeled on the slope whilst they waited to get going.
The sun poked momentarily through the clouds, and Mike contemplated the diamonds of plastic bristles fanning out below them, bright white in the sunshine. He wondered if it was typical for Scotland to still be snow-less at this early point in the season, and how long these youngsters would hang around if it didn’t start snowing soon, however keen they were?
Some movement caught his attention, and he noticed Jude walking up the grass at the side of the slope. Presumably she wanted to get a bit closer so she could hear what was going on. He ran a hand through his hair. Despite his promises to her, how long would he wait in White Cairns himself, if there was no snow? He dropped his eyes, letting out a long breath and rubbing his chin with his thumb as he mulled this over.
A crescendo of chatter from the candidates brought him back to the present. He cleared his throat to get their attention. "Right, everyone, we'll have a look at your own skiing and boarding now. Please remember it's not a competition to see who can ski fastest; I just want to make sure you're safe and competent, and see where I can help you to improve.
"First off, let's do some short turns. Two to three mats’ width, top to bottom, concentrate on your rhythm. I'll give you feedback when you come back to the top."
He looked round to see who was ready to go, and spotted Callum adjusting his sunglasses. "Callum, you look like you're ready?"
-::-
"I'm always ready!" Callum quipped, then pushed himself off from the side and stopped in the middle, facing down the slope. After a moment, he slid forward slowly, clicked his poles behind him, then danced off down the hill, turning his skis with a practised regularity within the virtual corridor of the two middle strips of mat.
&nbs
p; Mike turned to the rest of the candidates and said, "Don't worry if two mats is too tight, but try and keep your turns regular and controlled. Who's next?"
-::-
Simon slid out on his snowboard, nodded at Mike and said, "Dude!" as he turned down the hill.
Instead of going straight into turns, he put his arms out to the side like a child pretending to be an aeroplane, stood hard on his back foot and pirouetted his board round and round a few times as he slid, before transitioning into loose, relaxed turns all the way to the bottom.
-::-
Before Simon had reached the bottom, Colin hopped out from the group and said, "I'll go next, bro!"
Jude had just reached the top of the slope, and she watched as Colin slid down a short distance on the heel edge of his board, whilst winding his upper body round to the side, then turned quickly back, using the counter-rotation to flip his board up in the air and back onto its toe edge. He wobbled slightly as he landed, then shot off down the slope, turning more and more quickly the further he went.
Mike turned to the group again and reassured those yet to ski or board. "Really, you don't have to do tricks, normal turns will be fine."
Jude noticed Debbie breathe a sigh of relief, but then she was startled by a 'Whump!' sound and they all looked round to see that Colin had smacked into the thick foam padding covering the fence at the bottom of the slope. He'd been going so fast that he hadn't been able to stop in time for the lift.
JUDE GASPED AT the noise. "Oh no, I hope he's alright?"
But he seemed to be indestructible. Giving himself a brief shake, he bent down to unstrap his back foot, before scootering over to the lift. She breathed a sigh of relief.
-::-
"I'll go next!" said Debbie, pushing herself out to the middle of the slope and pointing down the hill in a snowplough shape, like Callum had. Maybe I won't look so bad, after Colin, she thought, and pushed off.
The top of the slope was steeper and she quickly gained speed. Turn! she told herself, jabbing her ski pole into the mat, and pushing the tips of her skis round the pole. All too quickly the next turn came up and she was gaining more speed. More edge! Slow down.
Losing some speed by skidding the tails of the skis, she lost the rhythm and her turns ended up four mats wide. Don't lose it. Turn!
She started to settle into a rhythm, swooping and diving on her skis. Yes! That's it! Then disaster struck. A lump of uneven mat near the bottom caught the inside of her top ski and flicked her foot out to the side, making her wobble and nearly lose her balance. She whanged the ski down hard and threw in an emergency turn, but she'd totally lost the sequence and her turn went far too wide.
Oh no! I nearly fell over in front of all of them. The last two turns went by in a blur, and it wasn't till she was being dragged up the ski tow, watching Pamela skiing carefully down, that it hit her. I was worse than Colin. Everyone else is so good. I'll never get the job now. I'll never pass my Grade Three. Her shoulders slumped, and all the optimism and hope she'd been feeling melted away.
-::-
Whilst Debbie came up the tow and Pamela finished her run, Mike nodded to Zoë and said, "Zoë, would you like to go next?"
Then he turned to Simon and asked, "Simon, would you swap over to your skis so that we can see your skiing?" Simon's skis and boots were over near the top of the lift, where he'd left them earlier. "You can get yourself organised whilst Zoë goes."
In the meantime, Zoë had hopped herself forward and into her first turn.
Her movements were neat and precise, not as fast or flowing as Simon or Callum, but controlled, and Mike noted that she'd done as he asked and turned within three mats’ width, without trying to show-off with tricks.
Simon still hadn't got his skis clipped on, and Debbie was just getting off the lift, so he motioned to Ben. "Ben, we haven't seen you yet."
As he'd expected, the ex-racer did perfect short turns all the way to the bottom. Child's play for him.
WHEN DEBBIE GOT back to the top, she slunk into the back of the group. Was there any chance that Mike hadn't noticed her nearly fall over?
"Debbie!" he called her over. "Go again. But this time I want you to hear a song in your head. Focus on the song, not the turns. Use the song for the timing."
"What song?" Her mind went blank, she couldn't think of any tunes.
"Try 'We are the Champions'," Callum suggested.
She heard the song in her head. That might work. Just as well he didn't suggest 'Fat Bottomed Girls'. "Okay," she said, and skied off, humming the song under her breath.
This time it happened more effortlessly; she heard Freddie Mercury in her head, and some of his posture and confidence transmuted itself to her limbs.
-::-
Jude could see the obvious improvement in Debbie's skiing, and she was impressed that Mike had so quickly homed in on something that would help her. She liked the way he'd kept the morning moving, intervening where necessary but not taking over, just a light touch when needed.
She imagined Allan in the same situation. He'd have done much more directing and pontificating. Perhaps Allan was a better leader, though — Mike seemed quieter and kept himself in the background a lot of the time.
She looked back up at the top of the slope, where Mike was motioning Simon out on his skis. If the youngster could ski as well as he could snowboard, he'd be a real asset — as long as he could teach well. Simon seemed a bit off the wall, though; she wondered if he could connect with a group of learners, and explain things at their level. She'd be interested in Mike's take on that.
Sliding out and into his short turns, Simon proved that he was perfectly competent on skis, even if he didn't have quite the same panache as on the board.
-::-
"Marty — just you left, I think?" said Mike.
"Yes, boss." Marty adjusted his shades, then proceeded to glide into some flowing 'S' turns, his long jacket and baggy trousers disguising some of the fluid movements his knees and hips were making.
-::-
After a couple more runs from the candidates, Mike had seen enough. He unclipped his skis and walked over to Jude, who was leaning on the fence at the top of the ski tow.
"Okay, I'm happy that I've got a fair idea of their abilities now. How about you?"
"Yes, let's get them back over into the hotel. I'll go and make sure the sandwiches are ready, if you can organise the troops?"
-::-
Jude was nearing the bottom of the slope when a minibus pulled in to the side of the road and disgorged a bunch of uniformed schoolchildren, chattering excitedly as they were shepherded down the path to the town by two harassed-looking teachers. The sign-writing on the side of the bus said 'Beechfields School, striving for educational excellence. Est. 1873'. It was the same school she’d found the letter from the other day. How strange, she'd never had anything to do with it before, and now she'd come across it twice in just a few days!
She reached the bottom and was about to head over the road to the hotel when a round-faced man with receding dark hair and heavy eyebrows stepped out of the driver’s door of the minibus, checking a clipboard. She stopped. Would it be cheeky? Was she brave enough?
She felt her stomach cramp at the thought of speaking to yet another stranger, and started to walk away. I’ve done enough today, surely? But then she remembered the way she'd felt when she read their bank statement. Nothing was going to change unless she made it change. And, like Fiona said, what’s the worst that could happen? That made her mind up. She walked over.
The man looked up as he heard her footsteps. "Excuse me," she said, visualising how Lady Di would have approached him, "I hope you don't mind me interrupting you, do you have a moment?"
He looked slightly taken aback, but innate politeness kicked in and he smiled affably and held out his hand. "James Paton, Head of P.E. How can I help?"
"I'm Jude Winters, of White Cairns Ski School. Someone from your school wrote to my husband a number of weeks ago,
to ask about ski lessons this winter, but unfortunately he's been in New Zealand and didn't see the letter. I just came across it yesterday, so you can imagine my surprise to spot your minibus today! Can I ask if you know if you’d still be interested in ski lessons? I'm going to be running the ski school until Allan gets back."
He stroked his chin. "That would have been the school secretary. I asked her to send out some enquiries for me."
"Oh." Her shoulders slumped. "So you'll have found someone already?"
"I believe we've had some responses." He paused and gestured with a hand, "But the race isn't over, I haven't made a final decision yet — it will depend partly on price and partly on the offering." He looked her up and down, appraisingly, as if she was a prize heifer. "How soon could you get something to me?"
"Tomorrow, if I fax it."
"That would be perfect; I look forward to seeing it." He looked down the path and spotted the navy blazers disappearing round a corner. "Well, it was nice speaking with you, but I must get off." He held out his hand again, "Good day to you."
Jude shook his hand. "Thank you so much, I'll be in touch."
He strode off with a wave and Jude exhaled. She hadn't realised she had been so tense, but she also felt a small thrill of triumph. She'd done something positive for the business, and it hadn't backfired. It might even work. She'd work another all-nighter on the proposal if need be.
BACK IN THE hotel, there was a hubbub of noise as the candidates helped themselves to lunch, replacing some of the calories they'd expended on the ski slope.
Jude caught Mike's eye and motioned him over to a couple of seats at the side. "Let's talk and eat."
She balanced a plate on her knee. "So, who stands out for you?" She picked a piece of onion out of a sandwich triangle, and placed it carefully at the side of her plate, before breaking the sandwich into smaller pieces.
Mike didn't answer her immediately. He circled a forefinger on his temple, as if he had a headache brewing, then looked across at her. His gaze was very direct, and quite disconcerting. The light from the window opposite made his eyes glow an even brighter blue. Surely that colour isn't real? Could it be contact lenses?