I’m jumping into this story of my quest to achieve next level ski instructor certification quite a way down the line. It’s become something of an obsession and as the years advance and I’m well into my 60s, there’s an element of panic about it.

Before I begin to chart my progress, here’s a bit of background as to how I got started in this incredible sport.

Alpine skiing drew me in and hooked me well over 50 years ago when as a boy in a town in the industrial North West of England my obsession with sport had me fixed every Saturday afternoon watching sport on the BBC and ITV. They each aired weekly shows from around midday until after 5 p.m. showing a variety of sports.

For some reason the skiing just gripped me. I started to follow the fortunes of the great skiers of the day; Killy, Schranz, Thoeni and fantasised about one day doing it myself.

Nobody else in the house was remotely interested and haven’t been to this day. I think they saw it as another one of my crazes. I was always enthusiastic and prone to jumping fully into things. I was, and still am, a bit of a dreamer.

A few years later Ellis Brigham ski shop on Bold Street in Liverpool advertised ski lessons on their indoor dry slope. From memory a course of 4 lessons cost £4.40. I put all my Christmas money towards booking myself onto a course and aged 14 turned up for my first lesson.

There were about 8 of us in the group and I was the youngest by maybe 10 years. The instructor took us up 2 flights of stairs to a room overlooking Bold Street where stood a slope tucked under the ceiling of the room, perhaps 8 or so metres in length.

I remember to this day the feeling of uncoordinated hopelessness about my first moves with these ungainly planks attached to my feet. Slowly, however, I started to gain some rudimentary control and before long I was able to slide, plough and even plough turn.

At the top of the slope you had to duck and almost bend double to avoid hitting the ceiling. At the bottom was a door leading to a steep stairway which on one occasion someone left open and I narrowly avoided going through and hurtling down the stairs.

The instructor asked where people were going for their holiday; St. Anton, Kitzbuhel, Soll. He came to me and my answer was ‘’This is it.’’ A little less glamorous than the others but I had loved every minute and was more smitten than ever.

It wasn’t until I was 22 that I finally got to ski on a mountain. I booked an early season holiday to Sauze D’Oulx for me and my beautiful girlfriend (now wife of almost 40 years) I couldn’t afford it and had no idea how I was going to pay the balance but between my post graduate studies, holding down 2 part time jobs and a very fortuitous win on a raffle my Great Uncle Bill entered me into without me knowing, I managed to scrape together just enough money to get us on the plane.

We had some funny episodes on that trip which I may relate at some time in the future on another blog, but suffice it to say me and Cath skied 1 or 2 weeks a year after that until our kids came along in the mid 80s.

Trips with the kids were intermittent purely due to the expense. We did what we could and managed to get enough trips to secure their love of the sport. Of course progressing our own skiing at this stage wasn’t on the agenda and we remained very average intermediates for some years.

Fast forward to the early 2000s, 2004 to be exact and I was finally able to think about improving myself technically. I came across a company called The Instructor Academy. Based in Soldeu, Andorra. The Instructor Academy runs CSIA (Canadian Ski Instructor Alliance) courses and top coaches come over from Canada to deliver them.

I booked myself on a Level 1 course and had the privilege of skiing with and being coached by Doug Leeming, Heather Robertson and Jeff Sinlclair. Passing the Level 1 was one of the proudest moments of my life. I was a ski instructor.

2 years later and again with The Instructor Academy, I passed the Level 2 course coached by Heather again, Pierre Godbout and Meredith Youmans. Another massive privilege and another moment of immense pride.

The jump from Level 1 to 2 was a big one but nothing compared to that from 2 to 3.

Cath had also by now passed her Level 2 qualification and on retiring early in 2012 and in desperate need of some mental rebuilding, we managed to secure jobs teaching for the season in the ski school at Mount Washington, BC. This, apart from having kids, was simply the best, the happiest and the most fulfilling time of our lives.

We intended to return the following season but due to illness in the family were unable to and then work visas became incredibly hard to get. In the following years we taught in Crans Montana in Switzerland, Baqueira Beret in Spain and Andalo in Italy.

In April 2019 and after a lot of hard work and a number of courses taken in Andorra and Canada, I was fortunate enough to take and pass the teaching portion on my Level 3 qualification. The elation I felt when my name was read out was overwhelming, so overwhelming that on the video my wife took I look positively complacent. Believe me I wasn’t, I was doing cartwheels inside. This surpassed any achievement in my life; securing jobs, gaining my degree etc.

So we’re almost up to date. COVID and a serious knee injury to Cath got in the way of my training for 2 seasons on the mountain but off snow I have worked hard and I’m ready to embark on the quest for that elusive skiing portion of the Level 3 exam and the goal of full CSIA Level 3 instructor.