Jean Claude Killy and Ira Riklis

Regarding the previous post and photo, Ira Riklis comments: “The last pair is named for Jean Claude Killy, the French racer who at the 1968 Winter Olympics in Grenoble became only the second man ever (and still) to win all three men’s alpine events. There has since been added a fourth event, the Super Giant Slalom (or SuperG). However, no one since has won all three of the Slalom, Giant Slalom and Downhill.”

“He was my personal hero,” Rilkis continues. “In my desire to emulate him, I traded in my skis for a pair like those that Killy raced on, Dynamic VR17.  Unfortunately, [...] I wasn’t competent to use a true racing ski at that time (I am, and do, now) and broke my leg within a week of trading up.”

Ira Riklis has supplied “a rather famous picture of Killy during the Slalom at Grenoble.” He says, “You can tell that he is on a pair of the VR17s by the distinctive angled, double black stripe on the “shovel” of the skis.”

Photo supplied by Ira Riklis

Photo supplied by Ira Riklis

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | 2 Comments

Ira Riklis’ First Pair of Skis (photo)

The middle pair of skis pictured here, as described by Ira Riklis: Attached is a picture of Head skis from the late 1960′s.  The first pair are the Head Standards.  The next are the Head 360′s, like the pair I bought myself using my bar mitzvah money.  The last pair is named for Jean Claude Killy, the French racer who at the 1968 Winter Olympics in Grenoble became only the second man ever (and still) to win all three men’s alpine events.

Ira Riklis first skis -- Head Standards

Ira Riklis' first skis -- Head Standards -- next to Head 360s and Killys

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | Leave a comment

The People that Drive Charter Sports

Ira Riklis sends us this:

“The last picture is of many staff members in front of the original Charter Sports store at The Charter in Beaver Creek. Mike is the one in purple dressed in purple (Teflon) and holding his speed skiing skis. The one dressed for the Tour de France is in the picture of the management team, as is the lady holding the surf board. She has since moved back to Hawaii to pursue surfing full time. The one in the mountain bike gear with the medals around his neck is Jammis who is a nationally ranked and sponsored mountain biker. There not being a lot of money in professional mountain biking, he still works with us.”

The crew of Charter Sports

The crew of Charter Sports

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | Leave a comment

A celebratory picture of Ira Riklis

Mike Bartasuis and Ira Riklis at Ira Riklis' 50th birthday party

Mike Bartasuis and Ira Riklis at Ira Riklis' 50th birthday party

Let’s hope they didn’t go skiing directly after this event!

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | Leave a comment

Ira Riklis and the dreaded “face plant”

Second, there is no easy way to learn to make an expert turn. Let me repeat, there is NO EASY WAY to learn to make an expert turn. A non-expert skier is scared of falling. Having broken a leg and an arm, I can understand why. The tendency is to lean into the slope so as to feel confident that if they are to fall, they will fall the relatively short and benign distance onto the uphill side of the slope and onto the soft, fleshy (and in my case, extra padded) tushy. In an expert turn, the skier has to have faith that every move will be executed properly and on time without thought. That means that if anything is off, the effect will be to launch yourself, not unlike a missile, down the mountain, FACE FIRST.
I named this maneuver a “face plant” because it was like planting your ski pole but using your face instead. In the effort to learn to be an expert skier, I performed many a face plant. To truly understand how difficult this process is, you must realize how painful each face plant is. Not only have you been punched in the face, but some of that snow (often ice) feels like a brick. The pain radiates down your entire body, especially your chest because after the face plant you land with a thud on your chest. Then there is the fact that your face is covered in freezing snow, which as it melts now saturates your clothing. I don’t mean to sound as if I am trying to discourage others from becoming expert skiers. Quite the opposite is true. I would liken the experience to childbirth, long after the pain has been forgotten is the pleasure of knowing your child (of course that equation is somewhat skewed during the trying teenage years). After the joy of my own family, I am most appreciative to Mike for giving me the gift of being an expert skier. I don’t remember the face plants really anymore; but every time I glide down a slope and experience the exhilaration, I don’t know if I can even find words to explain the joy and thrill that I feel. Mike got me to understand that I had to trust the turn and that I would eventually be rewarded by being able to complete the turn. Obviously, as I returned to teachers again and again, I wanted to be an expert skier. But that would never happen if I tried to find an easy and safe way; Mike got me to understand that.

Ira Riklis continues with his thoughts on skiing:

“Second, there is no easy way to learn to make an expert turn. Let me repeat, there is NO EASY WAY to learn to make an expert turn.

“A non-expert skier is scared of falling. Having broken a leg and an arm, I can understand why. The tendency is to lean into the slope so as to feel confident that if they are to fall, they will fall the relatively short and benign distance onto the uphill side of the slope and onto the soft, fleshy (and in my case, extra padded) tushy.

“In an expert turn, the skier has to have faith that every move will be executed properly and on time without thought. That means that if anything is off, the effect will be to launch yourself, not unlike a missile, down the mountain, FACE FIRST.”

Ira Riklis explains further:

“I named this maneuver a “face plant” because it was like planting your ski pole but using your face instead.

“In the effort to learn to be an expert skier, I performed many a face plant. To truly understand how difficult this process is, you must realize how painful each face plant is. Not only have you been punched in the face, but some of that snow (often ice) feels like a brick.

“The pain radiates down your entire body, especially your chest because after the face plant you land with a thud on your chest. Then there is the fact that your face is covered in freezing snow, which as it melts now saturates your clothing.

“I don’t mean to sound as if I am trying to discourage others from becoming expert skiers. Quite the opposite is true. I would liken the experience to childbirth, long after the pain has been forgotten is the pleasure of knowing your child (of course that equation is somewhat skewed during the trying teenage years).

“After the joy of my own family, I am most appreciative to Mike for giving me the gift of being an expert skier. I don’t remember the face plants really anymore; but every time I glide down a slope and experience the exhilaration, I don’t know if I can even find words to explain the joy and thrill that I feel. Mike got me to understand that I had to trust the turn and that I would eventually be rewarded by being able to complete the turn.

“Obviously, as I returned to teachers again and again, I wanted to be an expert skier. But that would never happen if I tried to find an easy and safe way; Mike got me to understand that.”

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | 1 Comment

Ira Riklis, Mike Bartasuis, and ski instruction

Perhaps, in order to truly understand Mike’s incredible ability to teach skiing, it is best to start by analyzing the problems with the ways skiing is generally taught.
First off, skiing is intrinsically a complex ballet of motions, movements, shifts of balance, etc. However, if you are going to try and think your way through those steps, not unlike a student dancer counting out the beats, you will only be on step 3 when your circumstance demands step 12, which will lead to the inevitable tumble in the snow.
Most teachers reminded me of a cartoon of Goofy learning to play golf in which the narrator tells Goofy to lower his left shoulder, raise his right shoulder, lean his torso in, push his bottom out, bring in his left elbow, lower his right elbow, balance his weight evenly on his feet but bend his knees, lean into the ball, etc., etc., etc … OK, now swing. The result looked like a rubber band wound up tight in a toy airplane. When Goofy swings, he unwinds just like the rubber band.
The range of instruction for skiing included put your weight on the downhill ski, lean your hips into the hill, lean your torso down the hill, have the uphill ski about three inches ahead of the downhill ski, keep your shoulders even and pointed down the mountain, turn your hips, move your body up (what the hell does that mean anyway?), unweight the downhill ski, reweight the uphill ski, etc., etc., etc…and the result was not dissimilar to the Goofy golfing cartoon. Essentially, you can’t think your way through a ski turn at the expert level, you simply have to move with the rhythm.
Mike’s solution is to identify that ONE item in your technique which most interferes with the rhythmic motion, get you to understand that piece has to be changed, and then has you put on a great deal of mileage with that corrected movement. Once you have made that change a part of your muscle memory, Mike will identify what is now the item which most interferes with your rhythmic motion.
Eventually the correct motion simply becomes, as I mention above, muscle memory. Today, I don’t even notice the turn I’m currently making; I rely on muscle memory to make the turn. I’m thinking about a half mile down the mountain choosing my path to most effectively use the terrain, avoid people and obstacles, choose which path will be the most enjoyable, etc.

“Perhaps, in order to truly understand Mike’s incredible ability to teach skiing, it is best to start by analyzing the problems with the ways skiing is generally taught,” Ira Riklis continues.

“First off, skiing is intrinsically a complex ballet of motions, movements, shifts of balance, etc. However, if you are going to try and think your way through those steps, not unlike a student dancer counting out the beats, you will only be on step 3 when your circumstance demands step 12, which will lead to the inevitable tumble in the snow.

“Most teachers reminded me of a cartoon of Goofy learning to play golf in which the narrator tells Goofy to lower his left shoulder, raise his right shoulder, lean his torso in, push his bottom out, bring in his left elbow, lower his right elbow, balance his weight evenly on his feet but bend his knees, lean into the ball, etc., etc., etc … OK, now swing. The result looked like a rubber band wound up tight in a toy airplane. When Goofy swings, he unwinds just like the rubber band.

“The range of instruction for skiing included put your weight on the downhill ski, lean your hips into the hill, lean your torso down the hill, have the uphill ski about three inches ahead of the downhill ski, keep your shoulders even and pointed down the mountain, turn your hips, move your body up (what the hell does that mean anyway?), unweight the downhill ski, reweight the uphill ski, etc., etc., etc…and the result was not dissimilar to the Goofy golfing cartoon. Essentially, you can’t think your way through a ski turn at the expert level, you simply have to move with the rhythm.

[You are reading the notes of Ira Riklis of this thoughts on skiing.]

“Mike’s solution is to identify that ONE item in your technique which most interferes with the rhythmic motion, get you to understand that piece has to be changed, and then has you put on a great deal of mileage with that corrected movement. Once you have made that change a part of your muscle memory, Mike will identify what is now the item which most interferes with your rhythmic motion.

“Eventually the correct motion simply becomes, as I mention above, muscle memory. Today, I don’t even notice the turn I’m currently making; I rely on muscle memory to make the turn. I’m thinking about a half mile down the mountain choosing my path to most effectively use the terrain, avoid people and obstacles, choose which path will be the most enjoyable, etc.”

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | 1 Comment

How Ira learned his technique

So how does a fat, New York, non-athletic Jew learn to be such a talented skier?  Not unlike the old joke about how does one get to Carnegie Hall…Practice, Practice, and Practice.
Actually, that’s not exactly true.  If your teacher is not skilled, you can practice until your feet fall off and you won’t develop great technique.  I had a series of lessons, both group and private, with many different teachers over a period of about 20 years and was stuck in a rut of being an advanced skier.  I was never going to be an expert skier.  I was able to make parallel turns under perfect conditions.  I could more or less handle any slope, but not with a high degree of confidence or elegance.  I wasn’t making progress.  I was going to be a hack skier the rest of my life.  I was gazing longingly at those on the slopes that could gracefully master any terrain, their movements so fluid and beautiful.  How I dreamed and wished that one day I would be able to do the same.  However, I had pretty well resigned myself to the fact of life that, as one of my friends once said after watching me ski, “fat, Jewish, kids from New York don’t ski like that.”  Then I met Mike Bartasuis.

More from the interview with Ira Riklis. We have heard about his thoughts on skiing and life, his first experiences, and the importance of being able to stop on skis. But how did he learn his technique? He told us:

“So how does a fat, New York, non-athletic Jew learn to be such a talented skier?  Not unlike the old joke about how does one get to Carnegie Hall: Practice, Practice, and Practice.

“Actually, that’s not exactly true. If your teacher is not skilled, you can practice until your feet fall off and you won’t develop great technique. I had a series of lessons, both group and private, with many different teachers over a period of about 20 years and was stuck in a rut of being an advanced skier. I was never going to be an expert skier.  I was able to make parallel turns under perfect conditions.  I could more or less handle any slope, but not with a high degree of confidence or elegance.  I wasn’t making progress.  I was going to be a hack skier the rest of my life.

“I was gazing longingly at those on the slopes that could gracefully master any terrain, their movements so fluid and beautiful.  How I dreamed and wished that one day I would be able to do the same.  However, I had pretty well resigned myself to the fact of life that, as one of my friends once said after watching me ski, “fat, Jewish, kids from New York don’t ski like that.”  Then I met Mike Bartasuis.

What happens next to Ira Riklis? See the next post for more.

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | 1 Comment

How did Ira Riklis end up? (Part 6)

When last we left Ira Riklis, he was telling us about his experience of speeding down a ski slope without the all-important “stopping” lesson. Here’s the rest of the story:

“God was watching over me because I was aimed directly at the entrance door to the lodge and there was a canopy over the entrance with supporting columns. Just before I was to hit the door, I grabbed onto one of the columns and was able to bring myself to a stop. It is amazing but I didn’t hit anyone else, I was uninjured, and there was no property damage –go figure.

“After that rather inauspicious start, I went many times on daily and weekend ski trips. I enrolled in classes and learned how to turn and stop. I used some of the money I got from my bar mitzvah to buy myself a comfortable pair of boots without laces (early buckle closures), high quality skis, and STEP IN BINDINGS!

Ira Riklis continues:

It wasn’t an easy start, and learning to have my technique was not easy, but the thrill of skiing has provided me with one of my greatest pleasures in life. I can tell as I age that my reflexes are slowing. That my body is less forgiving of the stress and strains caused by skiing is a daily reminder. I am beginning to slow down and be more cautious that I not write checks that my body cannot cash.

“I know that one day I will have to give up skiing altogether. When that happens, I will be both sad at the loss, but also warmed by the memories of so many exciting days. I hope that it is many years in the future.”

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | 3 Comments

Part 5 of Ira Riklis and Skiing

Ira Riklis, in this interview about skiing, continues:

“So, it is hours since we left home, hours since I could feel my feet, hours since I started the process of simply getting into my equipment and walking to the slopes, and now I’m ready to try and get some elevation so that I can ski.  I’m not yet ready at this point to ride a ski lift or even to tackle the beginner slopes where they still had rope tows.

“Rope tows were usually an old, jacked up pickup truck with the wheels removed and a rope attached to the axle in such a manner as to cause the rope to circulate.  You would grab hold of the rope and it would pull you up a small slope.  I haven’t seen a rope tow in over 25 years, but ski gloves still have a reinforcement designed to protect the palm from the scrapping effect of the rope tow.

“Using the sidestep motion that I had now mastered, I climbed what seemed to me as a huge slope.  Today I could probably jump that slope without giving it a second thought; but at the time it looked like I was atop Mt. Denali.

“I’m finally ready to ski.  I point my skis down the slope and I begin to move.  I feel the exhilaration of flight and I’m hooked.  I’m just lovin’ it.  I know that I’m going to be coming back again and again to get this feeling.

“Nothing could diminish my thrill and pleasure, except . . . .  It suddenly occurs to me, I don’t know how to stop!  I’m headed downhill at what seems to me an incredible speed, I don’t know how to avoid the people in front of me and that’s not my real concern.  I’m headed straight for the base lodge; this can’t end well …”

Stay tuned for what happens to Ira Riklis in our next installment …

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | 1 Comment

Ira Riklis and Skiing, Part 4 (from the extended interview)

More on Ira Riklis’ first skiing experience:

“So there I am, about 10 years old, a never-ever skier, with all blood flow to my feet cut off, and my father decides that I need to be more self reliant. It would have been a simple matter for my father, or some other compassionate soul, to have closed the binding on my skis. But I was to stay there until I closed the bindings myself.

I tried to lean forward to close the binding, but my heel is being held down and I’m too short to be able to lean forward and gain the necessary leverage to close the binding. It took me about an hour, and many failed attempts, to figure out how to use the ski pole to close the binding. So there I am, feet aching, finally fully equipped to go skiing, and I haven’t even left the staging area yet. Now I have to learn how to move on skis.”

Ira Riklis continues:

“My father initially tried to teach me to use a herringbone method. I have now been skiing for almost 45 years and I have yet to see anyone use the herringbone for simple movement around the slopes. It is much easier to teach a new skier to use a sidestep method. Also, while modern skis are meaningfully shorter than they were about 45 years ago, the skis I was wearing were so long that I couldn’t even come close to getting the herringbone step to work with my prepubescent stature (or lack thereof).

“After about another hour of total frustration, I had traveled all of about three feet and I simply sat down in the snow and started to cry. At this point my sister, who had already been skiing before, had pity on me and showed me how to sidestep.”

Posted in Ira D. Riklis | Leave a comment