Day 1 - Vermont - Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports

Oh, is it time to begin? I mean, (for those of you have been overseeing our planning process) we began months ago – but time to really get going? With details, descriptions, and pictures! What I am saying is, from this moment forward, we will not be having the meandering discussion that we have been having, but will instead talk turkey (gobble, gobble). At this juncture, I am under the impression our conversations will mirror the cadence of a race track announcer ‘s speech - slow and conversational at first, calmly discussing fripperies and dalliances (as it has been), but, once the horses are locked into the gates (as it is now), the commentary will rapidly dissolve into strict facts given in fervor.

But, hold your horses a minute – if we are to begin, we may as well do it right. Our story can stay stabled for just a few more moments, noshing on alfalfa and carrots, fattening up for its release.

We packed the apartment into varied sizes of brown boxes, the ones that smell reminiscent of moving day. Each was marked with hopeful organization, but ended in a jumble of rooms and unlike contents. Upon delivering those innocent boxes to Tim’s parents home, we promptly destroyed the house with laundry, gadgets, gizmos, remnants of Christmas and our life in Boston. The mess grew out of the basement, into the hallways, and finally up the stairs into our staging room, where we feverishly organized, weeded through, and vetoed items.

With the car semi-packed (we return to home base a few more times before leaving the area completely and are considering the next few days our practice run), we began a slow crawl to VT, taking a slight detour to avoid being stuck behind a semi that was moving like a slow fog, inching its way up the road. To be fair, we were in a snowstorm. But we left the road all the same. And as we passed under the boughs on our little jaunt from the main road, winter bowed ceremoniously over us, enveloping us in a cloak of white on black.

Fast-forward a few hours.

Tim and I arrived at Pico Mountain, though already chilly beyond belief (high of 25 degrees, my foot), we were ready to spend our day with Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports. We met with Donna, the Program Coordinator for the Pico Mt. site, and Lee, “the intern”, who answered all our questions and gave us a brief orientation of the program, as well as let us know what was in store for our day with the org (a quick version of their, Skiing and Riding 101 course, I imagine).

Established in 1987, the mission of Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sports is to empower individuals with disabilities. They promote independence and further equality through access and instruction to sports and recreational activities. The org has a veritably slew of adaptive recreational programs: sailing, canoeing, kayaking, biking, horseback riding and rock climbing in the summer; skiing, snowboarding, snowshoeing and cross-country skiing in the winter. The organization’s vision neatly sums up their motivation – a belief that sports and recreation provide a physical, mental and social experience 
that is immeasurable in promoting self-confidence and independence in an individual. 


Their major fundraising events are during the summer, and consist of a 100 mile foot race, a 50 mile foot race and a mountain bike race. They have auxiliary fundraising events during the winter.

During our day with VT Adaptive Ski, we were involved with a daylong bi-ski lesson. We got an introduction to 3 types of equipment for the sit down skier (outrigger, bi-ski, and mono-ski) from the volunteer instructors, John and Bill, who skied with us. These fine gentlemen also showed us a snow slider, a piece of stand-up adaptive equipment. Very cool stuff.

Though, typically, only 3 volunteers are assigned to a lesson, today we had 5: John (the capped fellow on the left) tethering, Tim flanking on the right, Joan flanking on the left, with Bill (the character on the right) and I trailing behind. The person tethering is connected to the bi-ski by the aptly named “tethers”, and does not so much guide the more experienced skier as stay close to them during the run. Those flanking and trailing are responsible for running interference for the skier (“Stop at nothing - flatten anyone who looks they might hit the bi-skier” someone joked. “No, but in all seriousness, make yourself as big as possible and force them to run into you so they don’t hit the skier”). Luckily, we didn't have any calamity encounters – I was afraid of having to squash an 11-year-old snowboarder.

We zipped, we curved, we made sharp, quick turns and long, sweeping ones. Moving in harmonized form, we moved down the mountain - the bi-skier, Alexandra, kicking our derrières all the way down. We would finish the run, make some adjustments and head right back up to the top.

If you dig skiing, this is a place for you to considering donating your hours, teaching lessons or working on equipment. And, if you don't dig skiing, there is plenty of opportunity here to help out with office work, fundraising, or serve on a committee. Volunteers are asked to attend orientation, as well as skiing and riding 101 and one discipline specific on snow training (mono/bi ski, 3/4 track skiing, blind/visually impaired (VI), developmentally disabled (DD) & 2-track, and snowboarding) to become assistant instructors. All volunteers begin as assistant instructors. To become a lead instructor, a volunteer must shadow at least three lessons within one of the aforementioned disciplines.

Most of the volunteers we skied with had been with some form of adaptive for 10 years. Bill had been with VT Adaptive for 4 years; John had been volunteering with them for 13 years.

Vermont Adaptive Ski and Sport was a really wonderful way to spend our first day on the road. We met some fantastic individuals, and spent the day with a really inspiring woman who is a phenomenal athlete.

Thank you to Donna, Lee, John, and Bill for hosting us, and a huge thank you to Alexandra to letting us join her lesson.