 |
||||||||||
 |
||||||||||
 |
||||||||||
 |
||||||||||
|
||||||||||
 |
||||||||||
Chris Harrop: BASI Grade 1 & French Diplome National Brevet d’Etat Ski Alpin
Chris Harrop
... especially welcome are powderhounds who want to ski until they drop. Chris is a rugged individualist of a guide, who takes no prisoners in his quest to get down the mountain, no matter what obstacles stand in his way. In the course of a week, you can expect to ski the best slopes in l'Espace Killy and Les Arcs as well as Sainte-Foy, bushwhacking your way to the bottom wherever snow is sparse. Follow him if you dare, because his brand of high-adrenalin adventure skiing is a huge confidence booster, provided you make the grade.
If you don't you may miss an unforgettable lunch at one of several mountain restaurants you might not be able to find without his guidance. And that would be unfortunate.
Ian Beveridge: BASI Grade 1 & French Diplome National Brevet d’Etat Ski Alpin
Ian Beveridge
Mark Law (Telegraph Economics Journalist) took up skiing 10 years ago in his forties and soon hit the plateau. But then he met an inspirational teacher and his technique improved dramatically.
You are an intermediate skier with a modest ambition. Obviously you’d prefer to ski like a dream, but for now you’d settle for substantial improvement. Last season I achieved just that becoming more controlled and faster than I’d ever been. In addition, I could ski for longer with much less effort and I knew I was doing it better because my boots didn’t hurt anymore.
I can only claim a modest part in this transformation: the credit must go to an impassioned, maverick Scots ski instructor called Ian Beveridge. I first met Ian at the foot of the slopes at Val d’Isère, though his MetaSki leaflet had already caught my eye in the tourist office. He spoke about the teaching of skiing with the fervour of a revolutionary, which is, indeed, very much how he sees himself.
HIS METHOD USES A DAZZLING MIX OF SCIENCE, PHILOSOPHY AND PERSONAL ODYSSEY
“There is practically nothing that’s right in conventional teaching,” Ian proclaimed, seemingly oblivious of the fact that the bar was crowded with instructors ...(edited). Beveridge railed against what he described as the “teaching establishment”. “Even instructors at top national level don’t understand basic ski mechanics,” he complained before going on to explain his new teaching method using a dazzling mix of science and personal odyssey.
As it happens, I am a bit of a sucker for “revolutionary methods” because I came to skiing late and was shocked by the laziness of conventional teaching. To sign up with the ...(edited)... ski schools had proved a lottery and I always seemed to get the dud instructors. They were idle or uninterested, and their English was usually woeful.
I had also tried independent companies and individual instructors; they were better but often quite whacky. One chap made me ski with my eyes shut and another one had me skiing with my boot clips open. I fell over a lot, which was fine, but my skiing didn’t seem to get much better.
... Then I encountered Ian. At our meeting I realised he could certainly do the talk, but could he make me ski better? When we arranged to meet the following afternoon, he asked me to bring Snowblades. I’d never been on the things before, and I was reluctant. He reassured me that I’d have no trouble and it would speed up the learning.
I was hooked from the start. The blades were a delight (I implore anyone who hasn’t tried them to have a go). Ian’s teaching made sense even though it contradicted much of what I’d been taught: do not face downhill constantly because it blocks the flow of movement - always follow the skis around to an appropriate degree; do not sink down to plant the pole to complete the turn and rise to turn around it - instead, rise to complete the turn, touching the pole in the snow between turns when upright for stability as you prepare to incline into the next turn; do not stand on the front of the foot or over the arch - work mainly from the heel and drive the ski forwards.
Reducing his teaching to a few points in cold print does not do it justice, but it gives a sense of how it contradicts so much of the prevailing thinking. I spent the next day practising what I’d learnt, and then had three further hours of teaching, this time on short carving skis.
Personal despair drove Ian Beveridge to devise his method. He had spent two years studying and training to get his French instructor’s qualifications. “I did my theory,” he says, “I knew it better than anyone else but I could not get the Capacité” - the notorious speed test which so many would-be instructors not born on the mountain fail. “I’d spent a lot of money and time, I had top race coaching, but I just couldn’t do it. Then one day, in despair, I rethought the problem and started thinking about ice-skating technique. On my next test I abandoned everything I’d been taught: I went down the hill like a rocket and passed the slalom.”
Ian Beveridge is helping others to master the Capacité. He has had a success already with Phil Harrison, a 25 year old from Manchester, who now has professional status in France. “Ian is a remarkable teacher,” he says. “He teaches you how to use your body and harness natural movements to get fantastic results. So Harrison, who a short time ago as a two-week-a-year skier, is fully qualified and working in the most competitive environment.
Not a bad testimonial, but that’s nothing compared to what Ian Beveridge did for me.
This is Gravity.
Snow Crystal Symbols
Tel: 0033 (0)6 71 75 82 25 / Fax: 0033 (0)4 79 06 26 42