Recovering from nine winters at Jackson Ski Touring has taken a surprisingly long time. As I expected, I did not miss wondering who hated me and why. That only mattered to me because whoever it was managed to get me tried, convicted and sentenced in a secret court with no chance to face my accusers or answer the charges against me and it almost cost me my position. I was then reinstated by an equally secret tribunal where I again did not appear and had no input or closure. I was told I would get to hear substantive details from people in authority, but what I got was an impatient brushoff from someone who was obviously pissed off that I had been reinserted into the situation. What I missed was the skiing.
For those who felt that the retail grunts spent far too much time indulging themselves on the trails and far too little time insta-waxing the scabrous planks of legions of road-crossers, you will be pleased to know that the only person who skis in Wolfe City is the boss. I don't begrudge him. He works his ass off. Unlike a number of fat people and smokers at the upper levels of management in cross-country ski manufacturing, coaching and touring center operation, he still loves to get out there.He would let us get out there if he could. But not at the expense of his own ya-yas. Every morning he grooms. Then he skis. Then he comes to the shop. Four days a week he's gone again in the afternoon to coach the high school cross-country ski team. Because of the skeleton crew we run here we can't spare anyone during the work day, despite our leader's best intentions. We can never be sure it will stay quiet enough for long enough not to overwhelm the capacity of the staff left behind.
One day at JSTF Big T asked me if I was going to ski that day. I said I hoped so.
"Wouldn't it be great if you were too busy?" he said with the kind of dopy grin people use when they're trying to get a child excited about doing homework or getting a painful injection.
Are you crazy, Big T? If I was into this for the money, I wouldn't be into THIS. I wold be into something that actually makes money.
Before work the trails are not groomed. They're BEING groomed, but the pattern doesn't generally favor a good surface for a meaningful workout until the groomer has finished the job, at which point he takes first tracks. It's most efficient. He's there, the trails are ready. Just do it!
After work the trails are either a slush pit or a refrozen invitation to a broken femur. The average winter temperature does not keep snow powdery fresh the way it did just a decade ago.
Where does this leave the shop grunts? Riding the wind trainer at home, using the Nordic Track if you can stomach it.
It took two winters to get accustomed to the fact that we would be hard-pressed to get any exercise between the end of bike commuting in the fall and its onset again in March or April. The body and the mind need to find things to replace those healthful endorphins once provided by the excellent action of cross-country skiing. Because we probably won't get it, we can't want it, because denial of it only makes the lack of it worse. Write it off. It is gone. It is over. This greasy room full of smelly ice skates and rental ski gear is the only reality.
Exercise is a luxury for most people. That's why Jackson depends on wealthy elitists for its very existence. Many of them might not think of themselves as elitists, but you can't achieve the financial position they have without disconnecting from the concerns of the working class. Many club members are hard workers who are athletically but not financially elite. Others are complete snobs.
We are blessed in Wolfe City that the wealthy elite do not make skiing a central part of their lives. The big money is here for the lake. Whatever problems they may have mingling with the commoners, they don't take them out on us. Not so in Jackson. Those people chose their town for the mountains and the activities they can pursue there. In the touring center we were at center stage. Many more customers have a much higher ego involvement in Jackson. This makes it much trickier for the retailer unaccustomed to dealing with such a sensitive clientele. None of that will bring back skiing, of course. But at least as my information gets stale and my enthusiasm grows more artificial no one is likely to notice.
No comments:
Post a Comment