Provence France - grass skiing on the Mont Ventoux

It's a Lawn Way Down . . .

Dallas Hudgens Special to The Washington Post
October 16, 1998; Page N75

FORGET FRESH POWDER. When it comes to skiing, you can't beat Kentucky fescue. Okay, that may be stretching it a bit. Nevertheless, grass skiing is a fun way to stay in shape during the offseason. Not to mention a lot cheaper than flying to Chile.

Horst Locher introduced me to the sport a few weeks ago at Bryce Resort in Basye, Va. Though he did not invent grass skiing, Locher is responsible for bringing it to the United States from its German birthplace in 1976. Locher has been running a grass skiing operation at Bryce ever since, even hosting the first World Grass Skiing Championships in 1979. Today, Bryce is the only U.S. resort still offering grass instruction and rental equipment; the sport is more prevalent at European and Japanese ski resorts.

"It's kind of my baby," said Locher as he strapped me into a pair of his blade runners on a cool, drizzly Sunday afternoon. "I still dream that it will grow big."

Grass skis aren't blessed with a sleek, racy appearance. In fact, they look like they have miniature bulldozer treads. The metal frame of each ski is covered by a nylon belt studded with plastic cleats. The belt moves on rollers mounted to the frame.

As an intermediate skier who hasn't hit the slopes in a couple of years, I didn't really think this was the best way to re-introduce myself to skiing. I imagined a herky-jerky ride down the mountain. Lots of tumbling. Lots of grass stains.

But my initial judgment of the skis couldn't have been further off base. Even as Locher coached me on the bunny slope, I realized this was going to be a lot of fun. The skis, which make a clickety-clack sound when set into motion, were faster and more consistent than I had expected. And when I hit the edges to carve my first slow turn, they responded much like their Alpine cousins.

Of course, there are differences in the way grass skis and snow skis perform. And before Locher would let me take the chairlift to the top of the mountain, he made sure I was aware of and somewhat practiced in the nuances of grass skiing.

First of all, you stop in a completely different manner than you would on snow. Forget the side slip, Locher told me. The key to slowing down or stopping is spreading your legs out wide and digging into the grass with the inside edges of the skis. On steeper inclines, the best way to stop is to turn into the hill.

Though the skis are faster than they look, they are still a bit slower than snow skis. This is good for beginners because it makes the skis easier to control. And when it comes to control, the key to grass skiing is edging.

"It takes more pressuring of the ski to make a turn," said Locher as we headed up the chairlift for my first run down the big slopes. "The skis won't slide like they do on snow, so you can't cheat. It's pure carving, which is also the goal of the snow skier."

Locher cautioned me to make wide, slow turns until I got a feel for the skis. I nodded in the affirmative and set off down Redeye, a not-so-steep slope. Locher followed me in his sneakers.

After making a couple of lazy turns, I thought I had figured things out. It felt like snow skiing. A little bumpier, maybe, but nothing I couldn't handle. And so I pointed the skis downhill and tried to carve some quicker turns.

Before long, my lazy downhill habits took over. I eased off an edge during a turn, and the downhill ski began to quake like a plane without hydraulics.

Uh oh, I thought to myself. I'm about to taste the fescue.

Suddenly, I was trying hard to ski the way Locher had told me to in the first place. I fought to dig my edges into the grass. I tried to shift my weight back onto the center of the skis. Slowly, I regained control and came to a stop. Still upright, but winded and humbled.

I looked back up the hill, and Locher was running toward me with a smile on his face. "You're a little daredevil," he said.

"Just a slow learner," I answered.

From that moment on, I was very aware of my edges. Almost obsessive about staying on my edges, in fact. It forced me to concentrate and also to work harder physically. The grass provided so much more resistance than snow that my legs were fatigued after only three runs down the mountain.

"It's a fantastic workout," said Dave Monroe of Sterling, my chair-lift partner later in the day. "You've got to stay more focused on what you're doing than you would in snow skiing, which is more forgiving. It's the best way that I know of to prepare for the ski season. And it's also fun in its own right."

Even in the rainy weather, Monroe and I were joined on the mountain by a few die-hards, plus a couple of guys who were zipping down the slopes on mountain boards, which are four-wheeled versions of snow boards that the resort rents.

Locher instructs beginners on the bunny slope. As with me, he teaches on foot. It makes it easier for him to move from one student to the next, especially those stuck uphill from him.

The biggest obstacle to the sport's growth is the equipment, said Locher. The skis, which haven't changed much over the years, require a lot of maintenance. Locher is working with a Japanese manufacturer to develop a ski in which the belt moves around a series of ball bearings, rather than axle-mounted rollers. The current crop of axle skis must be cleaned and oiled after every use. The major hurdle to developing a ball-bearing ski is cost, because about 80 bearings would be needed for each ski.

"We're still waiting for the kind of breakthrough that (in-line skating) had with the development of polyurethane wheels," said Locher. "I think there's hope when we find it, because the outdoor person always wants to do more."

Locher's pitch for the sport is refreshingly void of any marketing catch phrases that include the word "extreme." He genuinely feels that if he can put beginners on better skis and teach them to navigate the green hills, the sport will sell itself.

"I love it as much as snow skiing," he said. "When you go to a competition, you sit around in your shorts and talk to people and have fun. I remember winter competitions with everyone huddled together inside, saying, `It's so cold. Do I have to go out now?' You don't see that in grass skiing."

BRYCE RESORT -- 540/856-2121, Ext. 228. About two hours from Washington. Take I-66 West to I-81 South. Exit at Mount Jackson (Exit 273) and follow signs approximately 11 miles to Bryce Resort in Basye, Va. The season continues on Sundays until Oct. 25; Bryce's grass ski season runs from June through August on Sundays and Wednesdays, then Sundays only during October. Cost is $26 for beginners (includes skis, boots, elbow and knee pads, and ski instruction). Experienced skiers can rent equipmentfor $20. You can also bring your own ski boots. Check-in time is 10:30 a.m. Slopes are open 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.

Locher instructs beginners on the bunny slope. As with me, he teaches on foot. It makes it easier for him to move from one student to the next, especially those stuck uphill from him.

http://www.bryceresort.com/