In talking about his progression from a rank beginner to an expert skier, Ira Riklis takes issue with an old joke about how one gets to Carnegie Hall. In his experience, you can practice, practice, practice, but without a great teacher, you can’t get to where you want to be. Over the course of twenty years, he took many lessons, both group and private. And while he improved to where he felt comfortable on virtually any slope, he still lacked grace and confidence. He’d become an advanced skier, but not a master of the sport. He felt he was a hack skier and would be for the rest of his life. He watched longingly those skiers who could master any terrain with fluid, beautiful motions. But he had pretty well resigned himself to belief that “fat, Jewish, kids from New York don’t ski like that.”
That all changed once Ira Riklis met Mike Bartasuis.