Amid the tents, kayaks, guns, knives, clothes and other outdoor gear at the Bill Jackson store in Pinellas Park, there sits an odd contraption. It's a roughly 30-degree slope about 12-feet square, covered in beige carpet. A mountainous snowscape decorates the walls behind it. It's called the ski deck, and it's a place where you can take ski lessons year-round. Yes, snow ski lessons. In Florida.
I'd seen the ski deck on a number of occasions and was incredulous about its utility in learning to ski on actual snow. But seeing as this Summer Guide is all about staying cool indoors, what better activity than facsimile skiing in a climate-controlled corner of Bill Jackson's? I had to give this baby a try.
You don't slide down the carpet; rather a conveyor belt rolls the platform upward and creates the sensation of skiing. The device doesn't provide the thrills and chills of genuine skiing, either, but it's particularly useful in preparing folks for the real thing.
Before I tell you about my lesson, let me say that my one attempt to ski on snow took place in western Massachusetts two years ago, in slushy, icy conditions. It was an epic disaster. I could barely accomplish a single run down the learner's slope. I've come to believe that skiing just isn't in my genes.
So it was with a kind of flashback trepidation that I snapped on the boots and skis. My teacher was the gracious and patient Darry Jackson, son of the owner Bill, who's now 90 and still works six days a week at the large facility set back in the woods off U.S. 19. Another instructor, Trevor Conklin, snapped photos and provided moral support.
We started by having me hold on lightly to a bar at the bottom of the deck. Darry showed me how to wedge my skis together — a beginner's move — how to bend my knees inward to put pressure on their inside edges, and a few other quick pointers.
He instructed me to tighten the wedge and let go of the railing. This would take me back onto the deck, Darry promised. It did — all the way up to the flat area on top, farther than I wanted to go. We had some fine-tuning to do. After a few tweaks and suggestions from my teacher, I was able to hold my position on the middle of the conveyor for a while, before I would lose control and slide off to the side of the carpeted incline.
I never did make much headway when it came to turning. (So much of skiing I find counterintuitive.) I was nearly as tense — body tightened, teeth gritting, frustration setting in — as I was on snow. But at least I didn't fall repeatedly on mushy shards of frozen water and have to contort my body like a Cirque du Soleil act just to return to the upright position. Although I did fall once, most of the time I was able merely to slide down the carpet and catch myself on the rail. And it was nice to ski in a T-shirt and shorts. After 30 minutes, I had a good sweat going, more from anxiety than physical effort.
So does the ski deck really prepare you for the slopes? I can't say from personal experience, because I have no immediate plans for actually snow skiing (what with the bad gene and all). But I did talk to a recent Bill Jackson's student, Jeff Westmoreland, 42, of Palm Harbor. He took three lessons, one a week, on the ski deck, after which he headed straight to Heavenly, a resort in Lake Tahoe.
"My friends who skied were all leery," Westmoreland said. "On my second day out in Tahoe, I took a lesson and my instructor thought I was full of shit when I told him I'd never skied before. By that afternoon, I was parallel skiing on the toughest blue slopes [the second most difficult runs]. Trevor taught me the mechanics. When I got to Heavenly I knew how to ski. I was definitely a happy camper."
Lessons on the ski deck are available year-round, although there is a several-week waiting list during the snow ski season. Lessons are $68 an hour. Bill Jackson, 9501 U.S. 19 N., Pinellas Park, 727-577-7380.
This article appears in May 10-16, 2006.