I just got back from La Parva, Chile this past Saturday. For much of the summer, it didn’t look like I was going to make it to the southern continent this year at all. Just two weeks before takeoff, however, I got the call, cleared my schedule, and packed my bags. Thank you ski gods...
Aside from a delay in Dallas that percolated its way into our plans to ski the day of our arrival, things went pretty much without a hitch. After all these years, I’ve almost learned to sleep straight up in a postage stamp-sized coach seat. The secret, I think, is one part post-hypnotic suggestion (“Self: you WILL fall asleep and be well rested and you will not drop your head to such a degree that it causes a brain aneurism”), and two parts sensory deprivation. I use high fidelity earbuds.. essentially earplugs with really nice speakers grafted into them. The ones I use cost about twice as much as my IPOD.. worth it. That, and a little eye mask, and I’m down for seven straight hours. No pills, no muss, no fuss.
La Parva is an interesting, powerful, and special place. I doubt I'm the only one who feels this way. Very strong presence in the mountains there.. The 18,000 ft mountain immediately behind La Parva is a holy shrine for the indigenous Chileans. They certainly must have been onto something and probably would have skied it if only the technology had been there. Call me crazy, but I've always liked these “power” places -a lot. I knew the first time I went down there that I would be returning again and again.
So there I was, yet again, still with two relatively good legs, nice 27 m sidecut GS race skis, and a bunch of willing rippers to help me drink the cool aid.
I was first introduced to La Parva and the two neighboring resorts, Valle Nevado and El Colorado, in 1991 during the South American Pro Tour. A Chilean friend of mine had like me just retired from racing world cup, and invited me to stay at his house just a few miles away while I got to clean up at those races. Now, when I say "clean up," bear in mind that there wasn’t too much competition. Two really exceptional Austrians: Roland Pfeiffer and Sebastian Vitzhum, both dominant on the World Cup and pro tour, had flown down there with me as well. Unfortunately for them, the US Pro Tour had contacted the organizers of the Chilean pro tour while we were en route and had forbade them from competing on the threat of disqualifying them from the following season up in the states. They had signed a binding contract with US Pro, I had not. I was a rookie. So I got to train with them, live with them, learn from them, and GULP.. drive with them, but they didn’t get to race and I ended up dominating. It was a great start to an otherwise average pro career. Trust me when I say that Roland and Sebastian had their revenge in the states the following season though.. I don't think they ever forgave me!
After that first trip, I didn’t get down there again for a very long time indeed, like about two careers, three longitudes, several latitudes, a marriage, children, and one law degree or so -thirteen years in total. I brought a group of mostly J1’s and 2’s down in 2004 and, although not much had changed there in the way of lifts or otherwise, the place was still just as powerful as it had been all those years ago. And the kids loved it as I knew they would. Mileage and epic pow make for good gate skiers... I’ve had dozens of conversations with parents over the years on this particular topic. Before you eat the fruit of excellent gate racing, you’ve got to first fuel the fire, watering the roots if you will, that runs the athlete’s engine down the long road that ski racing is. See: Way of the Peaceful Warrior.. The Warrior Athlete, etc. by Dan Millman. See also: irresponsible blending of metaphors 101 by Troy Watts.
This most recent trip was different in that for once I wasn’t running the show, and wow.. what a difference. Without the distraction of being the uber-organizer, I felt noticeably more present while coaching, and certainly felt a lot more clarity coming through in the process as well... I’m hopeful the athletes felt it too.
The camp had no complaints.. no injuries, no illness, and really no worries. At least not for me as I've already said. And these were great kids.
Which means we were able to work our butts off while being playful, god forbid. Because I will in large part be coaching the FIS women this coming season, I was relieved to be at this camp because of the opportunity to work with some of the athletes I’ll be with this coming winter.
As a coach, I get really excited every time I get to work with a new group. I gather that this is not a universally held sentiment, however. Often the air can be thick with expectation on both sides, so great is the understandable mutual desire to be successful. It’s kind of like dating. No doubt I’m preaching to the choir here, but expectations can and often do kill the flow in any relationship, and the process can sometimes be undermined by focus on hope and future desires right from the beginning. First impressions are kind of important.
Therefore I would advise coaches who think about this kind of thing in similar situations to at first just.. get to know them OUTSIDE your label as coach, and INSIDE your role as a fellow human being that shares a deeply held value for this sport called skiing and ski racing. Even though ski racers necessarily as a group assimilate to new situations quicker than most, everyone is different, and thus will have a different rate of acceptance for a new coach. Because we are not figure skating and do not have a private coach athlete model of teaching, we necessarily have to learn how to accommodate the personalities of a group. I frankly prefer this model because group energy can be extremely positive when it's structured correctly. Whether it’s wading through the emotional content that’s attached to the inherently power-imbalanced connotations inuring to the label “teacher-student” that our post-industrial educational model has indoctrinated young persons into believing (nay, fearing), or whether it’s just a matter acknowledging that it takes just a little bit of time before an athlete will huck their bodies off a cliff or down the Steilhang for you.. patience is the rule. No amount of yelling has ever made a seed grow faster, --Indeed, to the contrary.
Whenever young athletes come up against their risk threshold (indeed, as with most people), a lot of the more superficial emotions that “protect” the ego come right to the surface. Many a rookie coach takes this stuff personally and is reactive to it. Better to take it for what it is and acknowledge that it’s just a facet of human nature. ONLY when your athletes see that you’re there for them unconditionally, regardless of their emotional state, will they even consider letting you in past the superficial stuff.
nicely said. keep writing!
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