Skiing Scared

The Jump-Starters have broken into three groups: high, medium, and low volume -- "volume" euphemistically referring to skill level. Though he lacks the expert's ego, Deadwyler is in the high-volume group. For six days, he follows the lead of his trainer, Steve Smart, 37, arguably one of the best skiers in Canada -- a guy who can carve perfect grand-slalom arcs with his feet crossed at the ankles.

The fourth day, Team High Volume skied along a ridge off of the Seventh Heaven Express chair. Nothing up there but double-black-diamond bowls and couloirs, and the rocky, seemingly unskiable cliffs of the "permanently closed area." They skied behind Smart, heading toward a ski patrolman who was putting up ropes to warn of a sheer drop.

"We went right under the rope," says Deadwyler. "All the other guys in my group launched, and they got maximum air. All I got was that frozen-knee feeling. I kept hearing my mother's voice saying, 'If everyone else jumped off a bridge, would you jump too?'

"But everyone made it," Deadwyler continues, "and now they were waiting for me. Steve led me over to the side of the drop, where it was a little less drastic. I launched myself with minimum air, hit the slope, and somehow got to the bottom. Then we did it again. We nailed that jump over and over -- at least six times."

The lesson learned here? When you're taking on impossible-looking terrain, take it one piece at a time.

"Ralph has all the skills he needs," says Fellows. "Now he's got to build his courage. He doesn't have to be superaggressive, but he does have to be superconfident. That's why we took him to a place on the mountain where he could experience success, and brought him back there six times. People think that once they've nailed a big run, it's time to up the ante. But it's critical to build on that one run before you begin to show off for your buddies."

The Monster: Fear of Losing Control
Unleashed by: Unpredictable Weather

Marvin Davis, 53, is the principal engineer of Marvin E. Davis & Associates, in Reno, Nevada, and an outdoorsman's outdoorsman. He raises Missouri foxtrotters (horses, not ballroom dancers), has taught junior skiers in a community program for nearly 20 years, and scuba dives. He's got a nose that looks as if it's been rearranged once or twice, and last year he tore his ACL -- anterior cruciate ligament -- a skier's most common knee injury, which usually requires surgery.

He tells us how he got it: "I called a business meeting up at Squaw. Most of my clients are skiers, and I figured we could get some runs in, then have the meeting in the afternoon. But I wasn't concentrating on my skiing, I was thinking about the meeting, and suddenly a skier was in my way. I steered clear of him, but as I turned, I heard the 'pop' that signals the end of your knee. I was out for the season."

Davis calls himself "living proof that you can't let anything distract you while you're skiing." Still, he sometimes loses his focus. The culprit: changing weather conditions, such as fog, flat light, and the low visibility brought on by a snowstorm. "I freely admit that I'm afraid of this stuff."

The mutable weather of mountainous British Columbia taxes Davis. It's dazzlingly bright, foggy, and blizzardy -- sometimes all three in the span of an afternoon. You can't do anything about it but ski on through, taking each situation as it comes.

"When the light gets flat, you've got to key into your other senses," suggests Fellows. "Let your poles drag in the snow, which gives you four points of contact. Feel the terrain through the bottoms of your skis -- and respond. The key in any kind of weather is to anticipate. Don't be tense; be alert."

There is a lot of talk among the Jump-Starters here about Fellows's uncanny ability to find people's discomfort zone and have them hang out in it. But Fellows disagrees. "I never strive to make anyone uncomfortable. My goal is to challenge people without freaking them out. But I do try to make people feel secure enough with my coaching so that they'll want to push themselves."

"To improve, I know I've got to be comfortable with being uncomfortable," says Davis. "Chris knows how to push me."

The Monster: Fear That Strength Will Fail
Unleashed by: Mogul Fields

A computer technician from Aetna, Steve Marino, 29, is more ripped than the rest of us. He runs and lifts weights five days a week and considers his athleticism his major strength. He's been skiing for just three years, but the Connecticut ski club that he belongs to has already taken him to Banff and Lake Louise, both in the Canadian Rockies, and to Mont Blanc, in the French Alps.

"I can muscle my way down a mountain, but I'm pretty inelegant," he admits. "I came here to work on my technique -- to learn how to carve consistently and how to do a pole plant. Skiing seven days straight will force me to get efficient. And that's what I need."