For this trail skier, the National Nordic Team Tryouts have loomed over my life for many years. Once I heard about the team, I knew eventually I would find myself at the tryouts. I have enjoyed the privilege of working for Don Portman, a past team member and Bret Alumbaugh, another long time Nordic guru who had his sights set on the team in 2000, but an unfortunate knee injury kept him from the tryout. Both Don and Bret contributed to the reason I found myself starring down a pitch steep enough you could pick your teeth with. Three of the candidates skied beautiful, expressive steep mountain turns pass. The stress was so high for me, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I pushed off the near vertical drop.

The National Team tryouts for PSIA are a quadrennial event, where the best of the best arrive every four years to prove to the team selectors that they have the stuff to drive the sport and organization into the future, keep PSIA relevant for our members and make PSIA attractive to our future members.

Four disciplines comprise the four National teams: Nordic, Alpine, Snowboard and Adaptive. All four disciplines tryout at the same time, on the same mountain. On every ride up the chair lift or Gondola, every slope is covered in skiers, riders, telemarkers and sit-skiers that ate big California Mountains for breakfast. It was a show of talent that would make any exhibitionist blush. I was there hoping not to embarrass myself on the Tele days and prove to myself and the evaluators that I belonged at the tryouts on the merit of my cross country skiing.

The days are long and the requirements intense. The competition is tough and everyone’s nerves are shaky. But the groups of candidates are bonded together in the same experience. As proof to this statement, I arrived five days before the tryouts to acclimatize to the high elevation and get comfortable with Mammoth’s big steeps and endless terrain. Arriving alone, I knew no one, but by the end of the first day, I had already skied with Patti Banks and Charlie MacArthur from the Rocky Mountain division, two of the skiers I had been watching on one of the best instructional Tele DVD’s to come out in recent years, the Rocky Mountain’s "Fresh In Tele Gence." I had to pinch myself, here I was skiing with the same people I had been trying to learn from in a DVD!

Team "tryouts" are an intensive, five day job interview. The first day, candidates Telemark ski on all terrain, performing graded tasks in every condition the mountain could throw at us. After a full day on the mountain, the second day we spent cross country skiing. During the morning we skated, performing a variety of tasks, including two high intensity, lung burning relays. Tuesday night, tired and fatigued, we met for the first team cuts. The alpine team had already taken their loses earlier in the day since high winds shut down the lifts and forced the alpine candidates indoors.

There were fifteen Nordic candidates at the tryouts, and all of us had bonded as a team. Thanks to an open and mostly transparent crew of evaluators who created an environment of support and encouragement among us, I never remember feeling like I was competing against the other skiers. We were all there competing against ourselves, trying to ski our best for the "pencil markers" and hoping to leave our best tracks behind in the snow. With the looming sickle over our heads on Tuesday night, all of our hopes were to beat the first cut. After a few thanks and lots of encouragement from the evaluators, the coaches posted the first cuts. If your name was on the sheet, you went on, if your name wasn’t on the sheet, you went home. As we read the sheet, we slowly understood that the Nordic squad would remain intact, with no cuts, until Wednesday night.

Wednesday we ramped down the physical intensity and focused on teaching and movement analysis on the track. By Wednesday I had been skiing hard for seven days, four days of training, three days of tryouts, and I was exhausted. I was so worn by the sun, the intense skiing, the wind and the lack of oxygen, that even my organs felt tired. We taught and observed our teammates all day, took a small break for a few hours before reconvening that evening for the second cut. We all knew that by the end of the day, the proverbial blood would be shed and some of us would have to wait another four years to get this chance again.

To say there was apprehension in the air would be like saying the Titanic had a minor leak before breaking in two and sinking. Waiting for that list to be posted was like waiting for the ship to split. Out of fifteen, nine went on. A few tears and lots of disappointment were felt by all. We had shared so much in our short time together, that even those lucky enough to continue were not immune to the pangs of loss. After the announcement, they separated us quickly, and in a room by ourselves, the evaluators let us know just how hard it was going to get.

Over the next two days, before the final cut, we skied the steeps, the bumps, the half-pipe, the groomers and the "chicken heads." We skied it all and then we taught, and we taught, and we taught. We cycled through rounds of movement analysis on the slopes, we interviewed one on one with the top echelons of PSIA, we ran through an intense 13 station round-robin of questions, tasks, role playing and interviews, we produced and starred in a one minute video tech tip, and we had to lay down one final run on the steepest pitch the team coach, Scotty McGee could find.

On the final day, here I stood above that run. With shaky nerves and an uncertain outcome, I chased down my dream to be a National Nordic Team Member. I stayed upright and didn’t vomit, both of which surprised me.

That night, before the final team announcement, we met the evaluators for a little Nordic tradition, Aquavit, the National drink of Norway. With warm stomachs from the well traveled Aquavit, we waited for several hours until 8pm.

In a room with all of the National Team candidates from all four disciplines, the National Teams manager Katie Fry went alphabetically from A to Z naming the new National Team Members. The heart hurt for those whose names weren’t called and surprise from those whose names were called. I was fortunate to hear my name on the roster for the new National Nordic Team.

The road to the national tryout is not easy. For me the training and the tryouts are expensive; I spent around $6,000 just to show up. The sacrifice to go to the tryouts is phenomenal, but to actually show-up at the tryouts, put your best stuff on the chopping block, wake up every day with a smile and an attitude that you’re going to make the team, to push through the nerves and sunburn, is a testament to the character and fortitude of everyone who tried out.

The tryouts are more than making the team; it’s a rite of passage as a professional ski instructor. The experience feels monastic, as every candidate becomes completely engrossed and engulfed by the magnitude and intensity of the moment. Every wrecked nerve and dollar spent is worth the journey for all those skiers and riders who sacrificed a whole year to tryout.