My First Tip

This was a very good day for me. It snowed steadily but it did not feel too cold, and the sun peeked out a few times.

I carried my new jacket and my camera up the gondola this morning. I left the jacket up the hill in a high cubbyhole out of reach of children, so I could change and ski right after work without having to go down. After forgetting my skis in the locker room and having to rush back to get them, I was about 7 minutes late for line-up, and was surprised to find myself the instructor for the red (first-time beginners) class. This was my first class of the season, finally, after a month of being out here.

My class was a pair of brothers, Andrew and Adam, 8 and 7 years old, who despite never having skied before were very athletic and took to it naturally. When pressed, they instinctively pulled off hockey stops without any idea of what that was. I must not have been a very good instructor, because although they sprang back up and got their skis on whenever they fell, it took me all day to get the younger one into a halfway decent wedge. I was even tempted to attempt to teach parallel turns directly because they were trying for that, but failing to hold and steer a wedge. They were both pretty responsive and well-behaved, but rarely smiled until the end of the day because I’m just not very good (yet) at developing a fun lesson for kids of that age. I think the beginner area was not steep enough for them, because they kept trying to “duck-walk” or skate down the hill to pick up speed. The kids’ father took some video of them stumbling around down at the beginner area, and when I want to say hello he thanked me for my patience in teaching his kids. "It's my job! I'm glad to do it." I said. I met their mother in the lunchroom and promptly but politely shooed her out, since parents are not allowed in there.

The boys had a big breakfast this morning and ate very little lunch, but started enjoying the skiing a lot more after lunch, when I took them over to the button lift. My friend and housemate Scott was operating that lift this afternoon. They wouldn’t ride the button like they were supposed to, but held on to it with strong little arms and let it tow them up. When Adam the younger one fell off halfway up, he grabbed another and rode up the rest of the way! That area still wasn’t steep enough for them to glide on the skis and stop trying to walk, so after two runs there I took them up the chairlift. They still couldn’t reliably link wedge turns (which is the normal requirement before going up the chairlift) and the first run down was a mess and made me look bad, but I feel like I made the right decision for a few reasons... They could get down it quickly, in less than half an hour including the ride up: though Adam fell down every time he picked up speed and tried to turn, he got right back up. Both of them wanted to try more challenging terrain. Both of them learned and performed much better when it was steep enough to pick up speed, and they were forced to keep a good stance or crash. It was good for their confidence, and finally they simply had a lot more fun up there.

Their parents saw us coming back in at 3:00PM on the dot, and they were very nice. Someone must have explained all the procedures to them because they gave me the tags we use to keep track of kids (so that only the same people who checked the kids in can check them out), accepted their report cards, and asked me about renting helmets. I went in to wait around for my supervisor and clock out myself, and the father soon followed me in. He said, “Here’s a little something to thank you for teaching my boys to ski” and gave me a crisp $20 bill! I didn’t do a happy dance right there because that would not have been professional, but politely thanked him and said I really appreciate it. As far as I can remember, this is not only the first tip I’ve received this season, or the first cash tip I’ve gotten for instructing, but the first tip I have ever received in my life. It feels pretty nice.

After checking out with my supervisor and putting on my black jacket I did exactly one run - Grizzly still had huge moguls, now with some rocks and twigs between them - before the ski patrol closed them up. I got back down to the lockers, changed again, and went up to Smokie’s Bar, the pub right next to the lockers where the employees hang out after work. I joined a table of some coaches and instructors I knew, and I promptly spent most of my tip on booze. We bought three rounds of ale, and so I had three glasses. Even in Utah, that was enough to get me laughing at in-jokes I wasn’t in on.

Back at home tonight we watched “Death Proof” by Quentin Tarantino, the other part of that two-part horror feature “Grindhouse.” It was one of the most boring and senseless films I can ever remember seeing, and I almost fell asleep through it a few times. At least I caught the later episode of “Scrubs” this time.