Any way you slice it, pure carving takes new perspective

Forget everything you think you know about carving on skis. Ideas drilled into your head for years no longer apply. My reality check occurred courtesy of Terry Godbout, training director for the ski department of the Lookout Pass Snow Sport School.

Godbout molds skiers into instructors. He’s a PSIA (Professional Ski Instructors of America) Level III certified instructor and a student of the latest techniques used by World Cup racers. He invited me to Lookout for a clinic on the new way to ski.

“The term ‘carving’ has been used for decades,” he said. “Carving used to mean the ski only skidded slightly in a turn. Now carving means the ski isn’t skidding at all.”

Godbout said racers carve and some instructors carve, but few recreational skiers are carving. Ride up any chairlift and the rare carver really stands out.

“It’s ironic that everyone is using expensive new parabolic skis,” he said. “The skis are designed to make carving rounded, properly shaped turns easy, but skiers continue to make skidding zigzag turns.”

Old dog

Parabolic skis have been around for more than 10 years, but Godbout said a gap still exists between equipment and instruction. He’s bent on closing it. To understand how, I checked my ego and my notions about carving in at the parking lot.

I’ve lived by carving rules written when skis really were “boards.” A narrow stance was the aesthetic. Shifting weight to the outside foot bent the ski to make it turn. Always facing down the hill was a mandatory rule. Pole plants were deliberate jabs into the mountain’s hide.

To set me up for pure carving, Godbout had Dean Sink at Lookout Ski Shop in Kellogg loan me a pair of Fischer Race SC slalom skis just 165 cm long with a 13-meter turning radius.

We spent most of the day on gentle slopes skiing slowly. Skiing fast hides many flaws. Skiing slow exposes them. Godbout put me through drills he’s designed for showing skiers how to start, finish and link perfect round turns. Old habits had me struggling like a beginner. With Godbout’s patient guidance, my aggression gradually yielded to precision.

New tricks

The first adjustment I made was widening my stance. I can’t try to look like Stein Erickson anymore. This let me even my weight on both feet to use all four edges. In motion, I strived to simply point my knees in the direction of travel and let the turn come to me.

“There’s a trust factor when you roll the knees from one side to the other going across the hill,” Godbout said. “This leap of faith puts the skis on edge and you start coming around. You have to resist pushing the ski into a skid to change direction. With your hands out front, you don’t need a pole plant to start a turn.”

Pure carving also requires facing the direction of the turn. My habit of facing down the hill pushed the tails of the skis out of their arc soon after the start of the turn.

“Facing the direction of the turn is like driving a car,” Godbout said. “You’re behind the wheel, steering around a corner.”

A video of Canadian World Cup skier Erik Guay demonstrating perfectly the form we sought to emulate can be viewed at: youcanski.com/video/ guay_fr1.wmv.

Why carve like a purist such as Godbout? Once mastered, pure carving takes less effort. Skiing faster under control is easier. Riding quietly on the edges of your skis, turning as if on rails is a wonderful sensation. Pure carving is also pleasing to the eye.

Best of all, Godbout’s modern carving fundamentals make skiers better in any kind of snow – even deep powder. I discovered that during a big storm the next day.