To cut corners and advance faster, some individuals make pacts with the devil or other dark powers and don’t think much about the consequences. Today, I want to talk about the pact I made with speed demons a long, long time ago, and still enjoy its benefits as of this day. It all started when I was just seven years old; I was a little boy of modest means, raised in an alpine village and my dad, whose primary job was to make cheese, was also able to do almost everything. Among other skills, he was an excellent woodworker and one day made for my older brother and I two pairs of skis out of some pieces of beechwood he had on hand. I remember that he dipped the tips into hot water and subsequently placed the skis on a form that was always there in the back of his workshop.

He screwed on steel edges alongside the base and installed a pair of “bear-trap” bindings to complete the whole package. The unvarnished skis looked a bit pale and we had to wax them with a black and smelly concoction that would allow for what we believed was the best available glide in those days. My first time out on the equipment was for a flat, cross-country type race with my elementary school mates on a warm Sunday of March. I can remember that my glide was just terrible as I felt glued on the track while my better equipped buddies, already on factory-made Rossignol or Dynamic skis equipped with plastic bases, appeared having no problem passing me and pushing ahead.

This “static” feeling didn’t set well with me and I’ll never forget it. From that point forward, I developed a reverence for speed on snow and focused my subsequent outings on going down and going straight. Unbeknown to me, I had sold my skiing soul to the snow speed demons. While this deal helped me most of the time, it also brought me plenty of trouble, especially when I started jumping with my skis. A few hundred yards from the family house, there was a place called the “ski jump” where contests used to be held in years past and before the first tram was built in the area. We had rebuilt what resembled a respectable jump by piling up a big mound of snow and we were flying some 30 to 40 feet with our makeshift equipment. This is in a way how I became acquainted with aeronautics and understood early that in order to fly far, a very good rate of speed was a necessary condition. It’s also at the time that I experienced some of my worst falls and fully felt the pain of the “agony of defeat.”

Over the years, I continued to indulge in speedy trials, learning through twisted ankles and sprained knees my reasonable speed limits. They were also numerous cuts occasioned by sharp edges and low-cut gloves, so it’s fair to say that I paid my dues by discovering the beneficial and nefarious sides of speed. Later, as I became a more proficient skier, I discovered the “skiing paradox”, a profound truth that means that while skiing is often a frightful endeavor that puts us on the defensive and slows us down, a good rate of speed is the antidote, the magical ingredient that makes the work of skiing so much more pleasurable. This of course is easier said than done, but remains a fundamental foundation for becoming a better skier. Do I apply it? You can count on it!

When I can do it safely, I go fast. Not just to make it easier on me, but because I honestly enjoy it and since I’m much older now and my days on skis are beginning to become numbered, I can’t afford to waste time anymore. Remembering myself stuck on the ground at age seven remains a powerful motivator and so far my deal with the “skiing dark forces” has been a pretty rewarding one. Now, if you’re ready to follow into my ski tracks and make a deal with some skiing speed demon, do it on a friendly basis, don’t be too overzealous, don’t become overconfident and always watch out for other skiers!

In my last blog, I attempted to “measure” skiing and made a point that, even with state-of-the-art detachable chairs, we’re still spending a significant portion of our ski time sitting on lifts. Long ago, when all chairlifts were slow and time ran more quietly than it does these days, I used to tell my children stories on the way up the hill. My son Thomas was not really into that, but my daughter Charlotte insisted for a new story every ride we took. This, and a hot chocolate, were her main motivators to go out and ski. Under this sort of constant and, I admit it, pleasant pressure, I developed a creative technique for generating “chairlift-time stories” that would be varied in length and content, but would always include a measure of creativity should the lift stop for a while, the wind blow too hard or the temperature suddenly drop to subzero levels.

Over the years, this routine became another habit of mine and I always enjoy striking up a conversation on the chair or joking around with my fellow passengers. Since I was born in France, my accent has always been a dead giveaway that I turned into a conversation ice-breaker and a fodder for endless discussions on all subjects. All kind of questions have sprung up and I have learned – often at my own expenses – how to articulate an answer that is well-rehearsed and why not, peppered with humor.

I have a great deal of admiration for anyone who can think on their feet, particularly “improv comedians,” and have spared no effort in using that skill during a typical chairlift ride. One of the essential information I memorize is the average ride time for each lift; I get it from the “Lift Information” box located at the bottom right hand corner of the Deer Valley Winter Trail Map, on the side showcasing the panoramic ski map. Since the average uphill time is around six minutes, I refrain from telling stories that are too long as I must find enough “wiggle room” for a casual opening and partying words to “sandwich” the core story. There is no denying that high-speed lifts are forcing me to be more concise than I used to be!

The next important point is to tailor the story to the audience. If the others passengers are into their 60s or above, talking about body aches, prescription medicine or AARP always goes a long way as it often build bonds that may leave us standing and talking for another 15 minutes at the top of the chair! If the skiers are in their 30s and can’t stop fidgeting with their iPhones or Blackberries, tech talk often becomes de rigueur. If they all board the chair with extra wide, double rocker skis, a little expose showing some knowledge about big mountain skis is hard to avoid in order to strike a meaningful conversation.

If kids are sharing the chair, there’s always that good tale, but young folks’ attention is much harder to earn these days and the story needs to be new, exciting and not a re-hash of something they have already heard from a much better story-teller. In the past, when I told stories to my daughter, I’d pay enormous attention to my surroundings; if I happened to spot some rabbit tracks on the snow, I got her a special bunny story. If I couldn’t tell what the tracks really were, it could turn into a jackalope’s sighting, another misdeed from Sasquatch or some unsolved snow mystery. It just had to make some sense, contain a beginning, a middle and an end, but if told well and with a flurry of special details, it could turn me into a mountain wizard.

Finally, there’s always the big joke. On snow of course, and with some pun intended, this remains a slippery area that should only be tackled when all the previous options are perfectly mastered. If someone asks a really stupid or even a demeaning question, I will return the favor by telling an egregious story so long as I can keep a straight face, interact well with the offender(s), and make sure I have enough material left to make it to the top, including a great punch line. Of course, I always try to do it tongue-and-cheek and I keep my sense of humor while delivering the message. If I ever mess up, I do my very best to exit as fast as I can and vanish quickly into the ski crowd as soon as I unload the chair.

Now you’ll ask me: “What am I to do if I grossly underestimate the time to tell the whole story?” It’s quite simple; make an appointment with your listeners at the base of the same lift for the second, third and final installments!