billski
Active member
So if Vail wasn’t expensive enough for Mr. Cheap, he had to, just had to find something a tad more luxurious. If the early morning tour of residential property was not enough, I knew I was in trouble when they started handing out complimentary chocolate-chip cookies on our arrival. “I’ll take three and that will be lunch, said one in our posse.”
OK, let’s go skiing. Sheet, I’m still exhausted from our powder day. We split the posse in two, I go for the “intermediate +” (I’m feeling like a beginner about now), while the other group went off to do “whatever we feel like”. The translation as it revealed itself later in the day was: “intermediate+” meant incessant drills on the blues and fast as hell on the blacks, while “whatever we feel like” was described as “pretty hairy stuff.” Feeling like Gumby, I opted for the “Intermediate+” group. Good choice.
I got over the fact that BC is ¼ the acreage of Vail real fast. There is plenty to keep all levels occupied. BC is thoughtfully designed, as it was described to me. There are bail-outs in most places: blacks to blues, blues to green were commonly seen. BC got the same foot of snow as Vail, but being a day later, half of it was groomed like butter, the remained was bumping up handsomely. Many untracked woods runs remained. Blue skies, in the 20s.
About 50% of the trails seemed groomed out. What remained were endless bumps (“it’s not bumps, just a little snow moved into piles” we were advised.)
We meet our guide for the day, Valentin from Bulgaria. A real hot shot and a real ladies man. I think he missed the part about being our guide. Word must have gotten out that we were crappy skiers from the east, so he put us in boot camp mode almost immediately. With his signature double click on his poles we were off.
Our posse’ was an impressive mix of folks a lot older than I, quite accomplished skiers, who in their 60s and 70s half of whom continually blasted past me. I could keep up with the oldest skier, age 82, a world-class skier who just rocked. We had a guy who permanently busted up his shoulder and arm in an accident leaving his right arm unusable – he could bump ski as good as anyone. We had another guy who basically lost complete control of his left leg in a gruesome automobile accident, but could carve turns like butter. This crew was a huge inspiration to us all.
Halfway down the first run, he was determined to get us into shape. “What’s your name?” “OK Bill, you’re not edging both skis when you turn” “And what’s with that step turn?” “You musta learned to ski in the dark ages.” But all said with style and class, which just drew me closer to him. I challenged him back every step of the way. He enjoyed that and so did I. And it didn’t stop. Noon came, and noon went, and I was kinda afraid to ask if he was gonna let us eat lunch. That’s because I felt myself getting better and better. He started us on blues and progressively moved us to steeper and steeper terrain. He stayed on me until by the end, each run I was under full control. None of this “well, practice this for a few weeks and you’ll get better” stuff. This was “You’re not graduating from this class till you pass the test. Today!” It became addictive as I saw myself improve.
Valentin was quite entertaining. He sings opera when he skis. Loudly, with a magnificent voice. He charmed the women and motivated the men. A real renaissance man, clearly the resort was careful about who they picked.
Seriously staring at my form as I’m doing the “window” (upper body motionless) carving drill, I get to the bottom, and he says “that’s not bad.” From Valentin, that’s quite a compliment, I suppose.
woods lines
We finally stopped for lunch about 1:30pm. Spruce Saddle.
He finds a large round table and centers himself so he can conduct court. After I insisted he show me on the map where we’d been (most everywhere it turns out), he commands our attention and declares, “We’re all going to the race course now!” As quick as you could buckle your boots, he was at the top of the race course. He showed us how to launch out of the gate properly, how to use the carving he taught us and reminds us of the tuck technique for the last gates. Everyone comes down the course at about 24 seconds. I blast it, feel really good about the run and clock in at 20. Then Valentin blasts down, at 15 seconds. I’m not feeling so good anymore. OK, let’s go see the mountain now, “click click” and we’re off to see some sights are Arrowhead. Houses look more like hotels. Minimum entry point is about $5M, with many upwards of $15M. Many homes are used only one month a year.
Beaver Creek skis better than any mountain in the east. While in the shadow of Vail, it’s world-class. I don’t have many pics, Valentin did not afford us much downtime!
Top of the lift
Clearly the staff, including instructors is top-shelf. But would you want to spend $120 for a half day or $135 for a full day lesson? How about an all-day Adventure session for $129? Or a private for $475 half, $675 full day? Maybe. Huh? Did Billski say that?!! Before this trip, I would say “no way”. Afterwards, I’d say, save your money up, and do the $129 adventure session. What I had was quite analogous to the adventure series. I didn’t have to spend time thinking about where to go, and you get to cut lines all day. I think I got a LOT better. The difference was the instructor. I’ve seen a lot of instructors and these guys seem, as a group to be top-flight.
It’s pretty obvious from the motto “Not Exactly Roughing It” that a dichotomy is extant. You can be as pampered as you want, from limos to the door, ski valet and linen clothed dining, escalators for skiers, complimentary cookies, gourmet lunches, all the way to being pushed to your physical limits, “hairy skiing” as my bud calls it, to rank beginners, posh restaurants – you choose.
Drinks anyone?
One oddity is that like Steamboat, you’re expected to come dressed for the party. The only place to change is small locker room that can optimistically hold 20 people down in the basement, replete with basket check and lockers. Most people stay onsite and shuttle in, so it seems. It was also noted that more affordable housing can be found in the village of Avon, only a few miles away. We did not check out the dining or après-ski scene.
OK, let’s go skiing. Sheet, I’m still exhausted from our powder day. We split the posse in two, I go for the “intermediate +” (I’m feeling like a beginner about now), while the other group went off to do “whatever we feel like”. The translation as it revealed itself later in the day was: “intermediate+” meant incessant drills on the blues and fast as hell on the blacks, while “whatever we feel like” was described as “pretty hairy stuff.” Feeling like Gumby, I opted for the “Intermediate+” group. Good choice.
I got over the fact that BC is ¼ the acreage of Vail real fast. There is plenty to keep all levels occupied. BC is thoughtfully designed, as it was described to me. There are bail-outs in most places: blacks to blues, blues to green were commonly seen. BC got the same foot of snow as Vail, but being a day later, half of it was groomed like butter, the remained was bumping up handsomely. Many untracked woods runs remained. Blue skies, in the 20s.
About 50% of the trails seemed groomed out. What remained were endless bumps (“it’s not bumps, just a little snow moved into piles” we were advised.)
We meet our guide for the day, Valentin from Bulgaria. A real hot shot and a real ladies man. I think he missed the part about being our guide. Word must have gotten out that we were crappy skiers from the east, so he put us in boot camp mode almost immediately. With his signature double click on his poles we were off.
Our posse’ was an impressive mix of folks a lot older than I, quite accomplished skiers, who in their 60s and 70s half of whom continually blasted past me. I could keep up with the oldest skier, age 82, a world-class skier who just rocked. We had a guy who permanently busted up his shoulder and arm in an accident leaving his right arm unusable – he could bump ski as good as anyone. We had another guy who basically lost complete control of his left leg in a gruesome automobile accident, but could carve turns like butter. This crew was a huge inspiration to us all.
Halfway down the first run, he was determined to get us into shape. “What’s your name?” “OK Bill, you’re not edging both skis when you turn” “And what’s with that step turn?” “You musta learned to ski in the dark ages.” But all said with style and class, which just drew me closer to him. I challenged him back every step of the way. He enjoyed that and so did I. And it didn’t stop. Noon came, and noon went, and I was kinda afraid to ask if he was gonna let us eat lunch. That’s because I felt myself getting better and better. He started us on blues and progressively moved us to steeper and steeper terrain. He stayed on me until by the end, each run I was under full control. None of this “well, practice this for a few weeks and you’ll get better” stuff. This was “You’re not graduating from this class till you pass the test. Today!” It became addictive as I saw myself improve.
Valentin was quite entertaining. He sings opera when he skis. Loudly, with a magnificent voice. He charmed the women and motivated the men. A real renaissance man, clearly the resort was careful about who they picked.
Seriously staring at my form as I’m doing the “window” (upper body motionless) carving drill, I get to the bottom, and he says “that’s not bad.” From Valentin, that’s quite a compliment, I suppose.
woods lines
We finally stopped for lunch about 1:30pm. Spruce Saddle.
He finds a large round table and centers himself so he can conduct court. After I insisted he show me on the map where we’d been (most everywhere it turns out), he commands our attention and declares, “We’re all going to the race course now!” As quick as you could buckle your boots, he was at the top of the race course. He showed us how to launch out of the gate properly, how to use the carving he taught us and reminds us of the tuck technique for the last gates. Everyone comes down the course at about 24 seconds. I blast it, feel really good about the run and clock in at 20. Then Valentin blasts down, at 15 seconds. I’m not feeling so good anymore. OK, let’s go see the mountain now, “click click” and we’re off to see some sights are Arrowhead. Houses look more like hotels. Minimum entry point is about $5M, with many upwards of $15M. Many homes are used only one month a year.
Beaver Creek skis better than any mountain in the east. While in the shadow of Vail, it’s world-class. I don’t have many pics, Valentin did not afford us much downtime!
Top of the lift
Clearly the staff, including instructors is top-shelf. But would you want to spend $120 for a half day or $135 for a full day lesson? How about an all-day Adventure session for $129? Or a private for $475 half, $675 full day? Maybe. Huh? Did Billski say that?!! Before this trip, I would say “no way”. Afterwards, I’d say, save your money up, and do the $129 adventure session. What I had was quite analogous to the adventure series. I didn’t have to spend time thinking about where to go, and you get to cut lines all day. I think I got a LOT better. The difference was the instructor. I’ve seen a lot of instructors and these guys seem, as a group to be top-flight.
It’s pretty obvious from the motto “Not Exactly Roughing It” that a dichotomy is extant. You can be as pampered as you want, from limos to the door, ski valet and linen clothed dining, escalators for skiers, complimentary cookies, gourmet lunches, all the way to being pushed to your physical limits, “hairy skiing” as my bud calls it, to rank beginners, posh restaurants – you choose.
Drinks anyone?
One oddity is that like Steamboat, you’re expected to come dressed for the party. The only place to change is small locker room that can optimistically hold 20 people down in the basement, replete with basket check and lockers. Most people stay onsite and shuttle in, so it seems. It was also noted that more affordable housing can be found in the village of Avon, only a few miles away. We did not check out the dining or après-ski scene.
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