Hills and thrills
Adaptive Sports Program at Snowbird helps kids take to their skis

By Carma Wadley
Deseret News senior writer

Alex Long was the last one off the mountain.

Tucked into her bi-ski and tethered to her instructor, the 10-year-old made run after run down the slope. And when she finally had to quit, her cheeks were rosy and her eyes sparkled with the exhilaration of sport.

What was the best thing about being out there? The mountain was never the same, she said. "You look at the mountain. And then you look in 15 minutes, and it is different." She was fascinated by the ever-changing patterns made by the skis and snowboards as they traversed the hill.

But the mountain was not the only thing changing on this cold, crisp morning at Snowbird. Every run down the ski slopes taught the kids more and more: about balance, about using different muscles, about self-esteem and about their ability to participate in a sport. Just because they have special needs that make it harder doesn't mean it is impossible. They changed the mountain, and the mountain changed them.

That's what the Snowbird Adaptive Sports program is all about, said Peter Mandler, founder and director of the nonprofit, educational foundation that runs it.

Now in its 25th year, the program is designed to provide outdoor recreational opportunities for children and adults with special needs. It was something that grew out of the regular ski school, said Mandler. "We saw a need for it and just started going."

In the early days, he had to work two jobs to keep it running. But now much of the funding is provided by Steve Young's Forever Young Foundation and his annual Steve Young Ski Classic. (Snowbird also donates facilities, and other organizations contribute.)

That means, said Mandler, that 90-95 percent of the people who participate don't pay anything. "We have some destination guests that can afford and want to pay for lessons. But it's always on an ability-to-pay basis. Most of the kids, especially, are on full scholarships that allow them to participate."

Seventeen paid instructors work in the program. They teach classes every day at Snowbird and two times a week at Sundance. On Saturdays, kids involved with Primary Children's Medical Center and Shriner's Hospital get their turn on the slopes.

A lot of people don't realize, Mandler said, that parents of children with special needs have to deal with astronomical medical expenses. "Even with insurance, there is a lot more involved. Something like skiing would be out of reach for most of them."

The program has evolved into a year-round thing. In the summer, they do some indoor camping, fishing and tram riding. But skiing is the heart and soul of it all.

They work with physical disabilities such as visual impairment, amputations and spinal cord injuries. But a lot of the kids have conditions such as cerebral palsy and spina bifida. "Most of the parents say there is no other sport they can participate in that does so much for the kids," said Laura Stapleton, assistant director for Adaptive Sports.

"It's a great program," said Del Davis, whose 13-year-old son, Robert, has been skiing for three years. His son has cerebral palsy, "and he has a hard time feeling where his body is. But in the bi-ski, he's learned that if you lean one way, you go that way. That immediate response has been very helpful."

Robert also tends to be a loner, said his dad, "and this gets him out with people. Plus, being able to go to school with a lift pass on his jacket — that's a huge confidence builder. Now he can do something all his friends can do."

Last year at the Classic, Robert got his picture taken with Steve Young. "You go to school with something like that, and people notice."

Stacy Long, too, said skiing has been good for Alex's self-confidence. "It's something her dad and sister do, and now she can do it." Alex doesn't like anything else involving motion, said her mother. "She's the most cautious child. She won't do things like roller coasters. This brings out a whole new side of her personality. It's such good therapy because she has to move against her comfort zone, and that's what therapy is all about. But she has such a great attitude. She says, 'Mom, I'm shredding it!' She can't wait to tell the kids at school all about it."

Eight-year-old Sean Johnson also turns into a little daredevil on the hill, said his mother, Julie. "The faster, the better for him." Tyson Brinkerhoff, nearly 6, on the other hand, likes to go slow. "But it's amazing what he can do out there," said his mother, Michelle. "It's fun," grinned Tyson.

The first time Taylor Holmes came, he was a little resistant. "Now he doesn't want to stop," said his mother, Julie. "He's gained so much confidence." Taylor has EB — epidermolysis bullosa — a rare skin condition that cause blistering all over. "In soccer, he can't run; he's not an equal with his friends. But he can do this and be an equal."

However, no one was having more fun on the hill than 7-year-old Matthew Woolstenhulme, enjoying his first time on skis. "It's so exciting. He's never done anything like this," said his mother, Sue. "His brother is very athletic, he does wrestling, and Matthew's always saying, 'Mommy, I want to do that.' Now this is something he can do."

Matthew was adopted from Russia at 20 months old. "They told me he would never walk or talk," said Woolstenhulme. In fact, said Matthew, very matter-of-factly, "they were going to let me die, but Mommy came and got me." Matthew suffers from spina bifida and is small for his age.

"His dad helped build some of the Olympic venues, and so we watched everything we could. He loved the Olympics. He said, 'I'm going to do that some day.' "

But Sue Woolstenhulme did not know about this program until she was working as an Olympic volunteer and met Marilyn McGill, one of the instructors. She decided to give it a try.

"I know I'm going to go home and bawl," she said. "For a parent to get to see their child do something like this, where he can be like everyone else, it's awesome. Usually, Matthew is very shy and Velcros himself to me. But now it's so good to see this separation and this trust. He's having the time of his life out there. Just to see that smile on his face is worth a million bucks."

But if the kids and their parents were having a great time, so, too, were the instructors.

"It's a whole new world," said Sergy Preobrazhensky, himself a Russian immigrant. "The more you have a chance to talk to the kids, the more you go into their lives, the more you appreciate them. They may miss in one area, but they are overcompensated in other areas. You learn wonderful things from them."

"They are so wonderful, so brave," echoed Demie Moore, who has worked with the program for two years. "It's very rewarding to help them discover things they might not be able to do otherwise. But they teach you so much more." Trust, courage, patience, flexibility; they are masters at teaching that, she said. And besides all that, it's just plain fun — for students and teachers, alike. "Nothing undoes you like seeing the smiles across their faces."

It's about skiing, said Mandler, and a whole lot more. "We try to build on top of everything else. We try to give them self-esteem and good feelings that will carry over into other parts of their lives," he said.

Because throughout their lives, these kids will face mountains of one sort or another. But this is what they learn in the Snowbird Adaptive Sports Program: Mountains can be conquered. And once you ski down that mountain, it is never the same again.