Free to Ski

Bi-Skier Michele Sansregret races downhill at a CADS festival  (Photo: CADS)

Ten years ago, Rick Martellacci took his daughter to the Mount St. Louis Moonstone Ski Resort near Barrie, Ontario, so that she could spend the day snowboarding. Martellacci, then 38, hadn’t skied since he’d had his leg amputated above the knee (as a result of a bone tumour) at age 17. He brought a book to the hill to pass the time and was prepared to sit tight until his daughter was finished. But out on the chalet deck on that mild March day, with the sun shining down and the distinctive bouquet of a ski vacation – crisp winter air mingled with barbecue – wafting in his direction, Martellacci felt compelled to get in on the action. He headed straight inside and got himself on the list for the upcoming season’s Canadian Association for Disabled Skiing (CADS) adaptive ski lessons at nearby Horseshoe Valley. And he hasn’t looked back…except to remember the good times.

Martellacci won’t soon forget how he felt the first day he skied as a threetracker – with one traditional ski on his leg and two outriggers (forearm crutches with ski tips mounted at the bottom) for stability. “It was fear and exhilaration,” he says. “Because now I wasn’t wearing a prosthesis. I wasn’t tied in with straps or buckles or anything else. I was free. I was out in the snow, equal to everybody else out there.” Martellacci liked the feeling so much that he skied 50 times that first season, even though his lessons ran for only eight weeks. “I went out day and night to just work on it and work on it,” he explains. “I was so excited about it that when I’d get home, I’d write down where I went, how many runs and how I did…I only wish I had started sooner.”

The sensation of freedom may be the most exhilarating reason to participate in adaptive skiing, but there are many other benefits to the sport. As every Canadian knows all too well, our winter is long – and it can seem even longer when mobility issues make getting around in the snow a challenge. For those who ski, it becomes a matter of enjoying, rather than trying to fight, Mother Nature. Martellacci, who owns a homebuilding company, is always itching to get out of the office and onto the snow. “I look forward to the winter now,” he says. “When you get out there, even just the chairlift ride, because now you’re up in the middle of the trees, the sun is beaming down on you, it makes you say, ‘I’m glad I got up this morning.’ I spend as much time at the top of the hill becoming one with nature as I do skiing down the hill.”

Add the pleasure of spending time outdoors to the fact that skiing necessitates taking your mind off your worries– it’s difficult to think about anything else when gravity is busy pulling you down a mountain – and you’ve got the recipe for stress relief. Skiing provides physical benefits, too. Improved stamina, balance, flexibility and muscle tone are byproducts of an enjoyable time on the mountain.

David O’Brien, national executive director of CADS, notes that many members find skiing to be therapeutic. “We have a number of students that specifically come out to work on their balance, co-ordination and strength, which are all areas that skiing or snowboarding target very well,” he says. In fact, adaptive skiing, which began in Europe in the 1940s when several injured World War II veterans fashioned rudimentary outriggers, grew in North America as part of a rehabilitation program for veterans. U.S. Army hospitals used the sport to help wounded soldiers build strength and self-confidence.

There’s an individual component to skiing – it’s you against the mountain for a lot of the day – but skiing is also a social endeavour. One of the biggest perks is the camaraderie it creates. “I’ve made a lot of friends,” says Martellacci. “You end up striking up relationships that are long-lasting because skiers tend to ski at the same resort. And of course, there’s always the après ski that goes along with it… Everyone meets up to share a story or two. In fact, I learned more about my disability and my prosthetic device [while] skiing than I did in 25 to 30 years of going to my prosthetist.”

In addition to new friends, Martellacci now spends priceless family time on the slopes with his wife and daughters, taking advantage of the fact that adaptive skiing allows people of almost any ability to enjoy the winter together. “There’s no reason why it’s not just as easy as [when] an able-bodied person [is] learning it. I don’t think that anyone should be intimidated or apprehensive of it, regardless of their disability,” says Martellacci, who also volunteers as an instructor at CADS. Watching somebody with similar challenges succeeding in a ski program can be a confidence boost, and the basics can be picked up in a few lessons. Using specialized teaching techniques and equipment, programs like the ones run by CADS, a non-profit organization, make skiing (and snowboarding) possible for people of any age with a wide range of disabilities. “Basically the list is too long to [name] the ones that we service,” says O’Brien. “If you have any mobility at all, then we’ll do our best to get you out there.”

For people with little or no lower-body strength (cerebral palsy, muscular dystrophy, spina bifida, spinal cord injury or double amputation, for example), sit-skiing is available. Mono-skis and bi-skis feature bucket seats mounted with shock absorbers to a frame above one or two skis, respectively. For others, there is three- or four-track skiing. Named for the number of tracks left in the snow, this involves one or two skis and two outriggers. People with vision disabilities use sighted guides, who ski close behind and provide verbal directions. Tethers can be used for those who need them.

CADS also welcomes people with learning, developmental or cognitive disabilities. In Whistler, B.C., there is a specific program for those with autism spectrum disorder. The program focuses on increasing social and communication skills while participants learn the sport. Some resorts also offer “lesson buddies” to help skiers in mainstream ski programs.

It’s not difficult to get started. There are many organizations that can help (see sidebar). CADS is a useful resource. The 3,000-member organization (1,800 volunteers and 1,200 students) provides affordable, individualized lessons and adaptive equipment at 47 ski clubs across the country. Prices generally combine the cost of lift tickets, gear rental and instruction, and run approximately the same as able-bodied ski programs. At the CADS program at Snow Valley Resort in Ontario, for example, eight lessons (an hour and a half each) with equipment costs $155.

Many resorts around the globe have (or are developing) similar programs to support the growing popularity of the sport. Plus, “the bigger destinations have recognized that…a person with a disability, on average, brings three to four people with them,” says O’Brien. “And 4.4 million Canadians have a recognized disability...so in a shrinking market, the larger resorts have come to realize that [it’s in their interests] to target the entire population.”

Adaptive skiing is practised in more than 40 countries, but beware: Each program is run differently and prices vary widely. Some organizations have subsidies or donated money set aside to provide financial assistance to skiers who need it.

“Just get out there and do it,” says Martellacci. “Make the call. Show up. Once you’re on the snow, it all takes care of itself. It’s very rewarding when you take that three-tracker out the first day and they can barely stand on the flat snow, and within the end of the year, you’re taking them down a pretty decent run.”

Daredevils can eventually take on “black diamond” (difficult) runs and higher speeds. Some elite athletes, like those competing in the Vancouver 2010 Paralympics in Para-Alpine skiing (which features five events for standing, sitting and visually impaired classes), have taken the sport to a whole other level – they reach speeds of up to 100 kilometres per hour.

So, just how risky is hurtling yourself down a mountain? Surprisingly, not so bad. While people with diminished sensation (and everybody else, for that matter) must take care to dress appropriately to prevent frostbite, adaptive skiers face no greater danger than anybody else on the slopes. You can expect some tumbles and bruises as in any sport, but “the biggest risk,” laughs Martellacci, “is unruly snowboarders.”

Adaptive ski programs make safety a priority. Setting realistic goals for each student is key. “We take it slowly and work with the ability and not the disability of each of our participants,” says O’Brien. “We make it safe first, then make it fun, and the learning will take care of itself.”

Once you’ve spent a day on the mountain, there’s nothing better than heading to the chalet, pulling off your gear and having a drink with friends to tell tales of your adventures – exaggerations are expected and accepted. You’ve got nothing to lose. After all, as the bumper sticker says: “A bad day skiing still beats a good day working.”

Jennifer Rivkin recently joined Abilities as managing editor.