January 1, 2006

Happy New Year! 2005 is over and what a ride it was. It is hard to imagine that a year ago we were still living in Newbury, dropping tens of thousands of dollars off the asking price of our home (and our net worth) and just hoping to get to move.

New Years Eve had become a tradition for us. We have celebrated most New Years with close friends at our house. Some years it was just a few people and others it turned into fairly large parties. Over the years we refined our approach to the celebration with some of the finest champagne (frequently in a blind tasting where some found out about their preference for cheap stuff over hundred dollar bottles), unusual food themes (wild game, fondue, childhood favorites, to name a few), and a core group of attendees. A tradition developed of ending the party with an early morning hike in the woods. It usually resembled more of a stumble than a hike with frequent heavy snow cover, the exhaustion of being awake at an hour I only ever saw once a year, and a bit of champagne. Of course the rule of no flashlights added to the challenge, especially in years with little moonlight. It was a bit of silliness to start off the new year. New Year’s Day usually saw me cooking pork, sauerkraut, and dumplings for many of the party attendees.

Traditions can be fun. In some ways, they simplify life by providing a framework, an assumed answer to the question of “what are we doing this year?” In other ways, they challenge us to keep things fresh. Often in life we find enjoyable experiences. As we try to repeat the joy of the experience, we find a diminished return. We can’t recreate the spontaneity or the discovery of the first time. In this light, I was feeling a bit ambivalent about the end of our New Years traditions. I was certainly saddened to not be celebrating with close friends, but there was always a slight stress associated with preparing for the party. It was never something I minded, but not having that responsibility was refreshing. Perhaps this was simply me finding an upside to one of the negatives of having moved away from so many close friends.

This year was a blank slate and it turned out to be a fun evening. I worked all day in the rain while Kris made a few laps of the upper mountain. Kris has been battling a cold so she was not skiing as aggressively as normal.

It turned out that manager of the children’s lesson program was having a get together after work with Mexican food and margaritas. We didn’t have any formal plans for the evening, so we decided to attend the party. It was fun. Her house is a beautiful log cabin on the side of a hill close to the ski resort. Girdwood is an odd little town with a mix of ski bums living with tons of roommates and relatively wealthy people living a simpler lifestyle. The party attendees fit the demographic accordingly. We visited with ski bums in their mid 20’s, professional couples, and a few people our age who are just living life a little differently. It was the most diverse group of people I have ever seen at one party. Everyone in Alaska has a story and they are all amusing. We had fun at the party and I got to know a few of my fellow ski instructors a little better.

It was a short party, lasting only about an hour and a half. At a little after 7:00, most people were heading back to the ski resort for the torch light parade and fireworks. We weren’t sure if we were going to participate since we were both feeling a little beat up, but after a margarita and a fun time of listening to other people’s stories, we felt up for it. There were probably over a hundred participants. Officially it was open to employees, their guests, hotel guests, and other invitees, but no credentials were checked. Like anything in Alaska, you have to be responsible for yourself. There were a lot of children participating which made us a little nervous since we were going to be skiing down some steep slopes in a very controlled manner with only torches to light our way. All of the children skiing near us turned out to have adequate skills for the event.

As we rode up the chairlift, heavy snow began to fall. It was the nicest snow at the lowest elevation we had seen in weeks. We rode up 1400 vertical feet to mid mountain and as we got off the chairlift, we were handed a torch. The torches were actually flares taped to a long stick. We all got in a line and waited. After a few minutes, the lights were turned off and we were standing there in the dark, halfway up the mountain. It was a neat feeling except for the fact that we could no longer see the edge of the trail that dropped off steeply to one of Kris’ favorite runs. It was the kind of steepness that gets you worried in the daylight and knowing it was just a few feet away in the dark was slightly disturbing. Finally a glow began to appear from the front of the line as the flares were being lit. We slowly started to move forward and finally reached the lighting station where two ski patrollers were using their torches to light ours. Once our torches were lit, we began our descent down the easier route which had been freshly groomed for the parade. It was fun just following the person in front making tight turns and snaking back and forth across the trail. It was fun to look up and down and see the line of lights weaving back and forth. Kris was very focused so I don’t think she noticed, but I was having fun and not feeling like I needed to pay much attention to my skiing.

We skied the 1400 feet non stop without incident. As we got lower, we could hear the spectators cheering down below. It was neat to see the hundreds of people watching as we got to the base. The only amusing moment came near the bottom. The torch ahead of Kris had gone out and as we descended the last steep section, Kris lost sight of the people ahead of her. It was partially because the torch ahead of her was no longer lit but it was also partially because she didn’t know she was so close to the bottom where most people just point their skis straight down the hill for the final run out. Kris was lost so she started making really short quick turns to keep in control while still on the steep part. I think everyone behind us was forced to follow her slalom course until I finally jumped ahead of her and led the way to the bottom. A quick dip of the torch in the snow extinguished the flame and we were done. It was a fun experience. Who knows, it may become a new tradition for us.

We headed for home as the fireworks began. It seemed like a good opportunity to avoid traffic and have an easy drive back to Anchorage. It was snowing huge snowflakes as we left. We called our friends in Ohio on the cell phone and after losing them once, made arrangements to talk to them after we got back to Anchorage. They called us from the top of the hill at Alpine Valley. It was amusing that they were on top of our old ski hill within an hour of us being up on our new ski hill. They stayed up pretty late and called us once again after their little adventure climbing up the hill. It was nice to talk to them.

Kris and I enjoyed some champagne, a bottle of Roederer from California, the consistent winner year after year in our blind champagne tests, often beating the much more expensive French offerings. We had a couple glasses each as we talked to our friends on the phone and watched the pre-recorded Dick Clark celebration from New York. We made it to midnight, but it wasn’t easy. We were both completely exhausted. I had just finished a stretch of 12 days in a row on skis and Kris had skied all day with a cold. It was a nice New Years.

As I was writing this, I received a phone call. It was the ski school desk. My private lesson group from the other day wanted to know if I might be available this afternoon. I agreed and quickly got ready to go. Kris made fun of me for getting called to an emergency ski lesson on my day off just like I used to get called into work to deal with emergencies at the plant.

It was a decent lesson. I knew everyone’s goal was to go up the chairlift so I worked at getting them adequate skills to allow them to navigate that terrain. One of the five was still having problems, but I knew I could get her down the mountain even if I had to help her make her turns by moving her skis by hand while I skied backwards. Everything went well for the first few sections. My problem student fell a couple times, but she was mostly making good turns. When we got to the narrowest section, things went bad. There were lots of skiers on the trail. The one 17 year old girl who was having trouble and the mother of the group suddenly became very nervous as fast skiers went whizzing past. Today, the father skied with us during the lesson, so he was skiing with his wife and I thought he would keep her calm. I skied backward with the girl with each of us holding onto one end of her poles to give her some sense of security. This worked well and she was really making all the turns and controlling her speed by herself. Once I got her to a safe area, I looked back up and the mother was standing about where I had left her. Her husband was right there, but she looked nervous. When the trail cleared a bit, she made one turn and crashed. I skated up the hill, about 200 yards of moderately steep terrain to get back to her. I then skied with the mother using the same pole holding technique. She also made all the turns herself, but just needed the security of knowing that if she did lose control, I would stop her.

The father suggested that we take a break so we went in the bar where everyone had something to drink and the kids had a snack. The father shared with me that he had suggested to his wife that he ski backwards and hold on to her poles for the narrow section and she had said no. As soon as I skated back up to her and suggested the same thing, she quickly agreed. I explained to him that even if a ski instructor didn’t know anything, we just have a natural credibility that people will try anything we suggest. We had a nice visit during the break and the kids wanted to ski some more. The father really wanted to be able to ski with his daughters and the girl who was having problems was actually just a friend so I suggested that I work with her while he skied with his daughters. I think he appreciated having me available to babysit the friend while he enjoyed skiing with his daughters. I helped the friend through a couple more laps on the chairlift hill and she started to ski it by herself. On the last lap, the whole group met up again at the top and I gave them a tip on how to learn another more advanced skiing maneuver. The father seemed exceptionally pleased.

When we got back to the base, he asked about paying for the lesson and I explained that we could deal with that in the morning. He said he would like to pay me cash if he could find an ATM. He asked if there was one nearby and I told him that I wasn’t aware of one. He asked me to meet him at the hotel as he could get cash there. I agreed. I quickly stopped at the ski school desk, which was long closed by this time, to make sure I knew what the cost of the lesson should be. I read the board, did the math and determined that it was $380. I quickly changed my boots, loaded my skis in the car, and drove over to the hotel. I parked in the circle and waited for about ten minutes. Finally the father came out. He expressed great appreciation for giving his family a great lesson and for giving him the opportunity to ski with his daughters. He then handed me a huge stack of twenties and said “here is a thousand“. I couldn’t even bring myself to do the math on what that meant for a tip. I thanked him and as I walked away he added that he would call the ski school in the morning with his credit card to pay for the lesson. I asked, “doesn’t this pay for the lesson?”, holding up the pile of cash he had just given me. He said, “no, that is your tip.”

I have heard of thousand dollar tips at some of the fancier resorts, but I didn’t expect to ever get one. A few more weeks like this and I am taking the rest of the year off.