A Little Snow-How

Phil Mahre, who runs clinics at Deer Valley with brother Steve, leads a class. The Mahres push skiers to test their limits in search of a comfort zone. (Deer Valley Resort)

As if on cue, Steve Mahre skied up and said he'd show us what he'd meant with his drawing. And then he was off, gracefully traversing, his body weight moving forward, then up, then down the fall line, skis following. He completed the turn, set up and started the whole thing over again.

"Just like that, all the way down!" he shouted.

One by one, we went down, trying our best, as both Steve and Bruce called out adjustments -- "Weight forward! Loosen knees!" -- and pretty much coached us the entire run. The more we did it, the less they called out, and the more I thought I was starting to understand.

Then we saw the video at the end of the day. Yes, I was absorbing the techniques, but I was still stiff in my traverses and turns. "Also need to keep your feet farther apart," Bruce commented as he watched one of my runs. "But you're starting to get it."

That, I must say, was a good feeling.

Down in the Valley

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In a way, Deer Valley is really about elegance: perfectly groomed trails, picturesque beauty, pricey on-mountain mansions. All that, and its prohibition against snowboarders, can sometimes generate complaints of elitism or snobbery. Maybe so. But despite having some expensive restaurants, Deer Valley is perhaps a little more humble than, say, Aspen, whose $82 adult day lift ticket is $5 more expensive than DV's.

Also, the nearby presence of Park City, originally a silver mining town, helps relax the atmosphere. Up and down Main Street, Park City still has the feel of a mining town. Trendy boutiques, bars, clubs and eateries (more than 100) seem to be everywhere, but a nighttime stroll is still peaceful, particularly as snow begins to fall and images of fresh powder on the mountain begin to dance in the head.

Day Three began in the powder, unfortunately. Skiing powder is different from groomed trails. The techniques we learned do apply, but in different ways. The rest of the group cottoned to it a lot faster than I did. This wasn't part of the plan, but Bruce thought we should take advantage of powder at least to see what it feels like. (Being flexible is another part of the clinic experience.) Back on the groomed trails, we can really work on what we've learned.

Both Steve and Phil joined us for about an hour -- and the desire to show two Olympians that I'd learned something was, I admit, powerful. And contagious, I saw. We were all concentrating very hard as they watched us, and I could definitely see improvement in the others.

As I traversed my way down the mountain, I repeated to myself what Bruce and the Mahres had drilled into us, that it was all about balance -- forward, aft, lateral and vertical. I developed a rhythm of those terms in my head, a rhythm that matched my movements across and down the slope. Somewhere along the way, I started to feel different on skis -- less tense, perhaps. Definitely more fluid.

"That's it!" either Phil or Steve called behind me. "That's it! Keep doing it!"

And it suddenly occurred to me what was really so different. I was having more fun on skis than I ever had before.

William Triplett last wrote for Travel about Stratford-upon-Avon, England.