Matterhorn In Motion

The Peak: Swiss Videographer Makes The Mountain Come Alive.

Christian Mulhauser is a young, self-taught Swiss photographer and videographer who, in this short clip has managed to capture the magnificence of the Matterhorn.  The different sequences are dynamic; no longer does the peak look like a silent statute; instead, it is a player in a vastly changing environment.

Ski Patroller Nancy Pitstick

Is There Life After Knee Replacement? Part I

Inspiration Is The First Step.

There’s a saying: If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch. I had to stay on the porch. My knees had quit, and I spent ski days mostly on the deck of the ski lodge while everybody else went skiing. I slathered on the sunscreen, drank hot chocolate and chatted with visitors. But I was bored. I wasn’t skiing.

Skiing wasn’t fun any more. I’d tried physical therapy, injections and finally an expensive custom made brace with pads, straps and a happy butterfly design all over it. Nothing helped. My knees balked at skiing. Even though I could bicycle, walk through the grocery store and climb stairs, my knees refused to ski. They reduced me to doing out of control wedge turns on easy slopes. I believed that my ski life was over. I was caught between non-skiing knees and the panicked feeling that I’d have learn to knit.

Ski Patroller Nancy Pitstick's comment started Harriet's journey Credit: Harriet Wallis

Ski Patroller Nancy Pitstick’s comment started Harriet’s journey
Credit: Harriet Wallis

Then Brighton Ski Patroller Nancy Pitstick entered my life. It was New Year’s Day. The sun was shining. The snow was perfect. But 20 minutes after the lifts opened, I was done for the day. One careening snowplow run was all I could do. I hung up my skis and headed for the deck.

“Happy New Year,” a voice said. “How’s your day going?”

I ignored the cheerful patroller.

“Guess you didn’t hear me,” she said. “How’s your day?”

She wouldn’t let me off the hook, so I poured out my knee frustration to her.

She listened carefully. Then she told me that she’d had both knees replaced. Right there in front of me was a healthy, active, vivacious patroller who was skiing and patrolling with two artificial knees. She assured me there can be life after knee replacement.

In true patroller style, she rescued me—not from a crash on the slopes but from my fear. And she inspired me to find a solution so I could return to the sport I love. It was New Year’s Day, and it began a fresh start on life.

Ed. Note:  In upcoming issues, Harriet will describe what she learned on her knee replacement journey, offering helpful advice and insights.  Look for articles on how to do your research homework, unusual tips to help you choose a doctor, questions to ask when interviewing doctors and more.

CADS: How to Add Years to Your Skiing

An ingenious invention extends your ability to ski well on not-so-great knees

On the high side of usefulness for seniors, we find CADS, a remarkable body weight suspension system for skiers and riders that reportedly helps relieve knee pressure by acting as a spring between your butt and your knees.  Instead of

Strut from butt to boot Credit: Dan Leeth

Strut from butt to boot
Credit: Dan Leeth

gravity relentlessly pressing down—using your knees as a fulcrum—CADS is said to relieve the pressure.  Less pressure, less muscle tension, less fatigue and more skiing.

CADS stands for Constant-force Articulated Dynamic Struts—think of your car’s shock absorbers, and you have an analogous idea.  The skier wears a harness around the waist and under ski pants. Thin pole-like struts attach to the waist belt and to a fitting in the back of the ski boot.  The struts are detached on the lift and remounted at the top of the hill.

CADS inventor Walter Dandy said in a January, 2013 Dallas Morning News article, “It’s like sitting on a bedspring.  It pushes down on the ski.  It pushes up on the skier.”  He claims, “You don’t get tired, and your knees don’t hurt.”

“CADs does a novel thing,” said Walter in a SeniorsSkiing phone interview.  “In addition to weight bypass, CADs replicates what the thigh muscles do, so you’re reducing the strength requirements of your own muscles.”  CADS also puts downward pressure on your ski, allowing the ski to be in more continuous contact with the snow.  “That reduces muscle tension and fatigue,” said Walter.  “One senior skier held a tuck position from the top of one Vail ski run to the bottom without burning his thighs.  He said he couldn’t even do that when he was 25!”

Walter said that people whose knees hurt when they are skiing are prime prospects for the CADs system.  “Our customers are typically life-long skiers—engineers, physicists, surgeons, dentists and the like.  These people are self-reliant, knowledgeable, but they have a knee issue that is threatening their skiing experience.  So, instead of quitting, they try CADs.  These are not fashion-sensitive people, and they want to keep skiing.”

Struts and Bands Supply the Force Credit: CADs.com

Struts and Bands Supply the Force
Credit: CADs.com

The CADS website has lots of videos of regular folks skiing with the device.  The hard-data medical research and testimonials collected over the past twenty-four years are impressive.

If you happen to be in Vail, you can get a free on-slope demo from Walter using trial equipment.  If Vail isn’t in your plans, you can order by mail.  Walter will ask you to send your boots and ski pants so he can fit them out before sending you back your new CADS.  Or, you can install the devices yourself.  Walter is also happy to advise prospective buyers curious about the technology and whether it could be potentially helpful for them.

Yes, it looks very different, but according to the testimonials on the CADS website, this really works.  And if you can keep skiing and skiing well, who cares about stares?  “The change in attitude in people from before trying CADs to after is remarkable,” said Walter.

We like the idea of CADs because it gives senior skiers a choice where there wasn’t any before.  We plan to try CADS this season and post a review.

Have you seen or used CADs?  Tell us your story.

 

We haven’t yet tried CADs and can’t officially endorse it until we do.  But it certainly is worth a look if you are thinking of quitting because of bad knees.  Here’s the official promotional video.

This Bubble Is Heating Up

What is hot, orange and headed uphill?

Okemo recently announced installation of its Orange Bubble, a heated-seat, six-pack chair, the first of its kind in New England.  And, Canyons Resort in Park City installed its Orange Bubble Quad a few years ago. I’ve taken that lift, and the warmth and orange-filtered view are nice‑especially on a bitter day.

Like riding up in a ski goggle Credit: Rob Bossi/Canyons

Like riding up in a ski goggle
Credit: Rob Bossi/Canyons

The technology gives the seats a fast charge when the chair passes through the lift terminals. Fannies and spirits are in a good mood on the way up. These seats have been popular throughout Europe for the past decade and recently started migrating to North America. Vail installed the seats on its Number One gondola about three years ago.

Heated seats on a bubble chair are a vast improvement over the heavy wool blankets worn from the 40’s to the 70’s to fight cold at Stowe, Killington, Mad River, Bromley, Aspen, Gore and Holiday Valley.  Under certain conditions, they froze cardboard stiff.  Under all conditions, they were pleasantly musty. Under no condition was your butt comfy and warm.

Scott Pierpont, SVP Sales, Doppelmayr USA, explains this emerging North American trend as providing another level of comfort beyond the bubble. His company built the lift at Canyons Resort.

Credit: Rob Bossi/Canyons

Keeping Tushies Happy Credit: Rob Bossi/Canyons

Both he and Rick Speer, president, Leitner-Poma of America, the company that built the new Okemo lift, believe that we’ll be riding on many more heated seats over the coming years.

“It’s all about skier comfort,” Speer explains. “The older you are, the more you’re going to like it.”

Why orange?  We have our theories, but what do you think?

Here’s how it looks and feels.  The spiel from the Canyons…

 

 

Need to See to Ski?

 Check Your Assumptions: Physical Obstacles Don’t Have To End Your Runs.

The first time I witnessed blind skiers I was blown away.  I assumed vision was a prerequisite for being on the slopes, but was I wrong!

That was years ago. Today, adaptive sports programs around the country train both specialized instructors and the visually impaired. The National Ability Center in Park City is the preeminent program for people with physical and mental impairments. It serves as a model for similar efforts around the globe. And groups like the American Blind Skiing Foundation help train instructors to work with the visually impaired. By learning how to ski—or adapt to their visual impairments—people with compromised vision get a sense of independence and are able to gain confidence that can lead to taking on other life challenges. Getting on the slopes also leads to greater contact with friends and families. Then there are the awe-inspiring visually impaired athletes competing in a broad range of Alpine and Nordic events. Visually-impaired Paralympic athlete Danelle D’Aquanni Umstead explains it this way:

“It is a ‘visually impaired team,’ not an athlete and their guide. Guiding is not something just anyone can do. As a guide, you have to be just as committed, ski faster and also be able to turn around at any given moment to look behind you at the other athlete when at high speeds. This is not an easy task, and takes a lot of training as a team. Finding the right guide is definitely the hardest part for a visually impaired skier. To be able to trust in that person one hundred percent, and find a guide who has the same goals as you.”

 Which brings me to a spirit-lifting tale told in an April 2014 segment on WBUR, Boston’s Public Radio station.  Dick Perkins, 78, and Tony Carleton, 80, Dartmouth Ski Team chums from the 1950s, found a way to keep doing the sport they loved despite encroaching disabilities.  Twenty years ago, Tony was hit with a neurological condition that compromised his upper body strength. But, he could still ski!  Then, Age Related Macular Degeneration (AMD) made his old friend Dick legally blind.

Tony Carleton guides his old pal Dick Perkins.  Credit: Sharon Brody/WBUR

Tony Carleton guides his old pal Dick Perkins.
Credit: Sharon Brody/WBUR

Giving new meaning to the expression “lean on me,” Tony, even with his neurological condition, learned to become a ski guide for his legally blind buddy. The two of them now carve graceful patterns together at Wachusett Mountain Ski Area, a 110 acre/1000′ vertical area not far from Boston. “That lifelong identity as a skier is something that’s really sustaining as we age,” said Dick in the WBUR story.  “It’s a great feeling to say ‘By gosh, I can do that, and I can do it pretty darn well’.” The story of their skiing partnership and a video can be seen at Skiing Together, Old Friends Conquer Uphill.

When Going Up Was Half The Fun

Early New England Tows We Still Miss.

Susan, second left, with her family in the late 50s.  Note chic attire.  Dad has spats; Susan's in a loden coat and white jeans.

Susan, second left, with her family in the late 50s. Note chic attire. Dad has spats; Susan’s in a loden coat and white jeans.

I’ve been skiing for 65 years, grown and raised in Concord MA.  I made my first turns on Punkatasset Hill, a no-lift neighborhood ski hill. That’s where I side-stepped to the top to pack the snow before picking my way down through the labyrinth of slalom poles my dad had set for me and many other local kids.  In the late 1920s, the Norwegian National Team used the jump at the short, steep hill for practice.

When I was seven or eight, Dad took me to Suicide Six in Woodstock, VT, where going up meant tackling a big, ferocious rope tow. Standing in line, I prayed that no one tall would step in behind me; I hoped that the person in front would hold on tight, lift the rope off the snow and stay in the track. Garnering all my courage, I’d try to grab the rope quickly, one hand in front and the other wrapped behind my back – ski poles dangling from each wrist. When I first caught hold of the tow, clutching hard with my leading hand, my arm felt as if it had been jerked out of its socket. If no one was in front of me, I was dragged along the snow, squatting in order to keep my body over my skis. If, as I had

Rope Tow at Woodstock, VT. Credit: New England Ski Museum

Rope Tow at Woodstock, VT. Credit: New England Ski Museum

dreaded, a taller person loaded on the tow behind me, I was lifted off the track into the air, hanging from the rope all the way to the top. When a skier in front lifted the weight of the monstrous rope for me, I was happy until that person unloaded and dropped the rope to ski off, leaving me again dragging along the track, hands soaking in my leather mittens and determined to make it to the top.

But the worst menace of all were the teenage boys. I quivered when one of them was up front for I knew what they did for fun. When dismounting, those boys deliberately snapped the tow as hard as they could, sending rippling waves of rope down the track. Yanked up and down, I was soon dislodged. Skiing down the hill covered in snow and disgrace, I slid to the bottom to get in line and start the ascent all over again.

I miss the old T-bar which took me to the top of Cannon Mountain in Franconia, NH. It was magically quiet gliding up through the hoar-frosted evergreens with the sun shimmering off the clear ice which encased the very tops of the

T-Bar at Black Mountain, NH.  Credit: New England Ski Museum

T-Bar at Black Mountain, NH.
Credit: New England Ski Museum

trees. Of course, it was uncomfortable when my side of the T-bar was in the middle of my back with my father riding beside me, struggling to help me, leaning down to hold his side of the bar behind his knees. What a relief when I was old enough to ride the lift with kids my own height or go up on my own holding the T-bar out in front of me, making “S turns” in and out of the track. I danced the whole way to the top.

And then there was Burke, in the “Northeast Kingdom” of Vermont that had a Poma lift running from the bottom to the very top of the Mountain. Here, I bumped off the growing mounds of snow which got larger with every run until I catapulted right to the top of the spring, hurled high into the air – boing, boing, boing.  Going up was half the fun.

For more about Suicide Six’s 75th Anniversary.

For more about Gunstock’s old Rope Tow, another favorite.

 

 

Susan Winthrop is a long-time skier with memories of the sport extending back more than seven decades.  A contributor to SeniorsSkiing.com, she currently lives in Ipswich, MA, enthusiastically skiing in and around New England whenever she can.

Suicide Six also had a Poma lift Credit: New England Ski Museum

Suicide Six also had a Poma lift
Credit: New England Ski Museum

 

Special Thanks to the New England Ski Museum, Franconia, NH.

 

 

 

 

First Ski Area and Resort Survey Results Coming Soon!

We were curious about what ski areas and resorts were doing to accommodate the rapidly growing number of senior snow enthusiasts who were coming to play.  So, we launched our First Ski Area and Resort Survey, polling a number of key areas in the US and Canada about lift discounts, amenities and special deals for seniors.  The Good News:  There are great deals out there including FREE SKIINGat some very special senior-friendly ski areas.  The Opportunity: There is a lot of room for improvement for expanding many ski areas’ programs that will attract seniors. We are still muddling through the survey data, but we’ve already identified a number of ski areas that will be named Super-Friendly for Senior Snow Enthusiasts.  Stay tuned to find out!

SurveyGraphPost2

One of our excellent questions.