
Instead, I spent the day skiing with his buddy, Zach, who had just got back from Garmisch, Germany, and who was suffering from a bit of culture shock ("It's such a 'Nar, Brah' scene here!"). He had just passed his level 3 exam, and deigned to spend the day helping me to suck less.
Zach's big tip of the day: drive the outside knee out, like opening a door. YES! I need this. I ski like a knock-kneed lilly-livered girl. I wanna look like a friggin bow-legged (magnetic) freight train. You know, because even though the magnetic ones are burly and fast, they float about an inch off the rail, so they are smooth as silk. Or buddah (that's New York butter, not Buddha, right? got it?). Or Ghee, if you are really a purist.

Nick, who is now the asst. director at Telluride, lived at Big Sky for nine years, and took us everywhere. I skied the steepest terrain I have ever been on, in trees, down groomers, through crud, off jumps (Okay, I got 2 inches of "air", Nick threw a huge Iron Cross, whatever, you know...). Anyhow, my skiing dramatically improved, and it was awesome to have him there going "YEAH! GOOD JOB!!". This guy is a bucket of fun on skis.

Anyhow, its a good thing, because had I known, I certainly would NOT have opened my big mouth and told him I hoped to try out this psycho physiological experiment and make the team in five years. He was really nice, encouraging, and basically told me to go for it. It can be done. YES, it can be done!! Says the coach!! So here we go. Once again, my skiing dramatically improved, and then I got to take a spin on his skis at the end of the day. "Kate, have you ever been on real skis?" (Right, neglected to mention that I showed up on my only gear, back country skis and dynafit bindings... not so great for high performance in bounds skiing...) and tried to ski away with them... ah, well...

All in all, it was an incredible weekend, I can't wait for National Academy in just five days!! YEAH!
I also hope to get over to Crystal Mountain in Seattle where Nick M. is based out of to just siphon his brain of all those drills, drills, drills.

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