NO BRAKES,
NO AIR BAGS,
NO SPEED LIMIT
My Life On Skis
by  Michael Levy

When I was a kid, we played in the snow outside during the winter.  If you've ever been a parent, you would know how much they want the kids to get out of the house, especially on weekends.   Somewhere, we got a pair of skis with "bear trap" cable bindings. We didn't have proper ski boots, so we just stepped into them with our rubber snow boots.  We used to go sledding down at Snake Hill, so named because it had a lovely "S" curve in it. When we got the skis, we built a ski jump on the side of the steep slope.  When you would take air off the ski jump, more often than not, the skis would fall off and drop away.  This left one flying through the air - with the greatest of ease. There were quite a few bone-crunching landings.  Miraculously, I don't remember anyone getting seriously injured.

My parents took me on my, and their, first ski trip when I was 16 years old to Crystal Mountain in Michigan.  This was the first and last time my parents ever skied.  My mother broke both thigh bones in her left leg on the last hour of the last day, simply by sitting down when she was over-terrained on a steep slope. Nevertheless, I was hooked immediately.  From that very first weekend I fantasized about someday being a ski instructor, like the older gentleman we had for our lessons.

At college I joined the ski club and trained to be on the ski patrol.  I served on the ski patrol at Boyne Mt., Michigan's primary ski resort, so I could ski for free.  Another season, I ski-bummed, entertaining with my guitar, vocals, and harmonica in the bar at Nub's Knob Ski resort in Michigan.  I kept my skis and guitar in a storeroom at the lodge, and hitchiked 250 miles after my Friday morning class to arrive and entertain in the bar, then skied all weekend, and hitchhiked 250 miles back to college on Sunday evening.

A friend and I drove out to ski bum for spring skiing at Arapahoe Basin in Colorado after college was out one summer, at age 23, in 1968. I worked at night until 11 PM as the dishwasher and short order cook at the only cafe in Frisco, Colorado.  After work I would stagger out to the parking lot, fall over the tailgate of the station wagon and fall asleep by the time I touched down.  As soon as the sun rose the next morning, I would buckle on my boots, ski all day in shorts and a t-shirt, go to work that night, and get up the next day and do it all over again.

I drove further west to experience Taos Ski Valley (TSV).  It was already a legend. At that time, the downtown plaza in Taos was dirt, the street had not yet been paved. The road to get up to the mountain thru Arroyo Seco (where I now live) was mud also.  The one day I skied there it was a full-on blizzard.  I rode to the top on the lifts and skied down the mountain.  It took me 3 hours to get down.  I never saw another skier or even found a trail, it was snowing so hard the visibility was only about 10 feet.  But I saw enough to know I wanted to come back.  

I saw Ernie Blake, the founder of TSV, also a legend, skiing at 85 years old, one week before I attended his funeral.  When asked once by an interviewer if he believed in reincarnation, he replied, "I pray there's no such thing.  I could never come back and have a better life than this one." That's me, brother.

I had always dreamed about being a ski instructor.  After my design & build company in Las Cruces went bankrupt, we moved to Santa Fe and my wife mentioned seeing an ad in the paper for ski instructor tryouts.  I was so excited thinking about it I couldn't sleep that night.   I was 45 years old and my dream was about to come true!   I went to the tryouts, surrounded by young adults 25 years old, made the cut, and became a full-time ski instructor at Santa Fe Ski Basin. The next year I moved on to Taos to be closer to the good skiing.  

My son, Samsunshine, skied with me as soon as he was able to walk.  He used to hold onto my knees and ride down the slopes between my legs.  My daughter skied with me before she could walk.  She used to ride on my back like a papoose down the expert slopes.  Usually, she fell asleep from the rhythm of the the swaying turns.  When she was 12 years old she hiked with me and her brother carrying her skis to the top of Kachina peak (12,481 ft.), and jumped the cornice freefalling to ski the snow below.

I moved to Taos with my 19 year old son, Samsunshine, after the divorce, and together we ran a gourmet meal delivery service to TSV for one season. We skied every morning in Chef's jackets and floppy hats, stenciled with "GOURMET EXPRESS" and our logo on the back, and cooked all afternoon.  We used to schuss up to tourists on the slopes and hand them a business card that said, "Free dessert with main meal". Sam was the Chef and my boss.  I was the prep cook, dishwasher and delivery boy.  He had his powder enlightenment skiing behind me that season.  The last time we raced against each other was in 2001.  He beat me by 0.03 second.

I had always wanted to experience heli-skiing.  It seemed like the last frontier.  The Australian family went on a ski trip to New Zealand in the year 2000.  I booked a heli-ski excursion.  After thinking about it for a month, I knew I would enjoy the experience by myself, yet it seemed it would be four times as good if I had someone to remember it with.  One morning I woke up and knew who I wanted that person to be.  I called my son in the USA and sent him a ticket to meet us in Queenstown.

After returning in 2006 from Australia to Taos, it was time to take up serious Mountain skiing again.  In 2008, at the age of 63, I applied, and was again accepted as an instructor in the Taos Ski School. This time, I got smart and elected to teach children in the Junior Elite II program. I find children easier to teach and a heck of a lot more fun to be with than the all too serious adult students.

I love the high country, the views, the unsurpassed beauty, the exhiliration, the largest Aspen trees in the world, the multi-hued Snowgum bark, and the untarnished pure mountain air.  I love finding my own limitations in the alpine wilderness.   I really know I'm alive when it's steep and deep through the trees, or down a chute, hopefully on a powder day.  I love no brakes, no speed limit, and no air bags!

TAOS SKI VALLEY
remains one of the few family owned and operated ski resorts in North America.  To this day it is still run by the founders' children and grandchildren.  Because of this long tradition of family, no other ski resort can make you feel as welcome.  TSV Resort offers alpine skiing in the Rocky Mountains of New Mexico.  The Taos ski resort features a top ranked ski school, uncrowded ski slopes, abundant snow and endless sunny days to create a memorable skiing vacation.

The simple facts about Taos remain unchanged.  The terrain is varied and often challenging, the sunny weather is a kick, and there probably isn’t a better place in the country to learn to ski.  Although it’s harder to get to than many other Rocky Mountain venues, Taos Ski Valley is consistently rated the best downhill ski resort in New Mexico, and one of the best in the entire United States.  The slopes receive an average of 320 inches of white stuff each winter (plus artificial snow), and there is something for skiers of every ability.

Taos Ski Valley stands apart from other resorts in substance and character.  Its unique ambiance is a mingling of its Swiss/French/Austrian founders' roots with the traditions and customs of the local Hispanic and Pueblo Indian cultures.  As for the mountain, it was here that extreme skiing in the U.S was first officially encouraged, prompted by the tough terrain as well as the mindset of founder Ernie Blake who championed the concept of challenging skiers.

But, it is not just a resort for experts, having heaps of beginner and intermediate runs, and the nation's number 1 rated ski school.  It also has an excellent children's daycare and ski facility, some superb lodges, and beautiful scenery.   Its hike-to terrain is world-famous, but don't come to party all night - most people are too tired after a day on the slopes to rock 'n' roll after sunset, though the venerable charms of the Hotel St. Bernard's bar always await.

SKI INCIDENT
MARCH 3, 2008

With 10" of new snow, I headed straight for the steep and deep.  Not stupid enough to ski extreme tree slopes alone, I waited for 10 minutes at the entrance to Lorelei Trees  for someone to show up whom I could ski with - to no avail.  I Took the lift back up and decided to head for Upper Pollux, which is hidden in the trees, but since it is not too far from the lift, is considered OK to ski solo.

About in the middle of the hidden tree section, I did an off balance, uphill turn to a stop above a tree, lost my balance in the deep pile, and fell downhill backwards on the 45 degree slope.  As I fell backward into the deep snow, the front half of my left ski got caught on the 8" diameter tree trunk. I found myself trapped - suspended upside down by my left leg!  I attempted to pull loose or release the binding 2 or 3 times to no avail. I was caught like a fly in a spider's web, hanging upside down, like Batman!  I was definately stuck.

I panicked, breathing hard and flailing my poles, trying to push up, to relieve the pressure on my thigh.  No one was in sight nor sound.  I was alone.  I tried to collect myself, got my breath back for a minute, assessed the situation and gathered my strength.  I wondered how long I could holdout before I passed out from the blood rushing to my head.  I looked down the slope.  Directly down the fall line 35' below me were two trees.  If I did get loose, I was going to avalanche straight for them, head first.

I gathered my strength and focus.  There was no way I could physically pull my entire weight uphill enough to reach the ski with my hands.  I tried a couple more times.  I took my pole and pushed the snow away from my binding, barely exposing what looked like might be the back release tab.  I jabbed at the release tab with the pole, but it did not budge.  However, the impact knocked my ski tip off the tree!  I spent one long second getting ready to roll, and wiggled my ski.  The heel, which had been embedded straight down in the deep soft snow twisted free.  I was falling, sliding and avalanching head first.  I rolled over with an aerial 180, and got my skis under me for a stop after a 15' slide.

I slowly skied a cruiser and stopped for coffee at the Black Diamond Expresso, to have a rest.  I had mildly strained my left thigh, back, operated knee, and neck. I skied another slow cruiser wanting to get my weekly exercise and conditioning.  I realized I wasn't at 100%, too much risk of further injury, and headed to Rhoda's Restaurant for some green chile stew. Better to live to ski another day.

As I was suspended, trapped, upside down - stressed and alone on the isolated slope, a clear message came across the screen: ARROGANCE.

" Thinking I was Superman, I had slammed into a brick wall."

Comment follows from my son, Samsunshine:

"Nice!  I think I've done the same thing on the same run... though unfortunately not with as much powder.

I arrested my fall before completing my 180 by hitting those trees 30' downslope with my left shoulder (just missing my head).

I decided to get back at the run, by hitting it again - to solidify my confidence.

The second time I dug in and twisted over at the same spot, freed myself and went downhill to hit the same other tree with the same shoulder.

That was the end of that day."   - Sam