Raising a Racer
by Nicole Dreon
Don’t let America’s skiing kingpin, Bode Miller, fool you into believing that ski racing typically results in rags-to-riches stories. Anyone who follows the sport or watched the 2006 Winter Olympics knows how Miller’s tale unfolds: Boy grows up in woods without plumbing or electricity. Boy drags old skis to local ski hill in New Hampshire. Boy is plucked from obscurity by elite racing academy. Boy becomes the best American racer in history and signs seven-figure contract with ski equipment company. Cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-ching.
The reality is that raising a ski racer can empty your checking account faster than Black Tuesday, and most skiers never reach the elite level. Consider the sticker price of Sugar Bowl Academy, a college prep school here in the Basin with one of the top racing programs in the country. Be prepared to shell out $29,500 as a fulltime boarding student, which is a bargain compared to similar East Coast programs like Green Mountain Valley School (which graduated Truckee local Daron Rahlves), Burke Mountain Academy (the alma mater of Squaw Valley freeski hero Shane McConkey) or Carrabassett Valley Academy (the program that eventually granted Miller a high school diploma). All of the aforementioned ring in just a few grand short of $40,000.
While it is more affordable for an aspiring skier to live at home and hone his or her skills with the local ski club, the costs still add up quickly, especially at the top level. Ski camps in South America and Europe? A couple grand a piece. Training and race skis for four different disciplines? Anywhere from $200 to $700 a pop. And don’t forget that beyond those skis are bindings, lifters, poles, helmets and racing suits. Then add on travel to and from races along with entry fees. Just for the record, ski meets aren’t held in places like Verdi or Fernley, Nevada. Try finding budget lodging in Aspen or Vail.
Tahoe dad and ski enthusiast Greg Murtha, whose sons, ages 8, 11 and 14, race in the Sugar Bowl program, expects to spend between $20,000 and $30,000 on ski racing costs for the three boys this year alone. “And that’s getting the ‘bro’ deal,” says Murtha. “There are a lot of talented local kids who are getting totally priced out, and it’s only getting worse.”
Money aside, the emotional drain of skiing can be even bigger then the financial one. Competitive ski racers train year-round, work out on a daily basis, endure extreme weather conditions week after week wearing nothing but spandex, and are subject to career-ending injuries at any given moment. At the end of a run, a mere second can be the difference between a good day and a bad day.
“Because it is an individual sport, it takes a big toll on athletes,” says Danielle Nichols, the head J3 coach at Sugar Bowl Ski Team. “You are up against the clock, and there is no one to answer to but yourself. I think that’s hard on adolescents.”
So what keeps kids—and their parents—committed? Well, if there is any place where a skier has a chance of landing on the top of the food chain, it is here in Tahoe, which has a legacy of producing world-class skiers such as 1983 overall World Cup champion Tamara McKinney, Hahnenkamm downhill winner Daron Rahlves and 2006 Olympic gold medalist Julia Mancuso. “Ski racing involves lots of skiing, traveling, training, good equipment and coaching. It's expensive,” says Rahlves. “I was fortunate to have full support from my parents and appreciated every dollar. In 2000, I finally had my dream come true. I won my first World Cup downhill in Kvitfjell, Norway, and I can still look at that win as one of my best runs ever. That moment when I stepped up on the podium was all the payback I needed.”
Skiers without the financial resources to pursue the full racing regiment, but who still dream of following in Rahlves’s footsteps, might need to be a little more creative. Maybe a family member works at the mountain for a free ski pass or they apply for financial aid from the Lake Tahoe Ski Club.
Marco Sullivan, who graduated from North Tahoe High School and raced in the local Squaw program, never shipped off to an elite academy, but went on to win his first World Cup downhill in 2008 in Chamonix, France. “If there is a student who appeals to the school, who we are interested in enrolling,” says Sugar Bowl Academy director of admissions Mike Hoffman, “we will do everything we can to make that happen.”
In the end, ironically, it is the Bode Miller paradigm of if-there’s-a-will-there’s-a-way that usually prevails within this fickle sport. “Some of these kids are privileged, and some of them aren’t,” says Nichols, “but ultimately, it is the ones who have the talent that are going to make it to the top.”
