Most people who try skiing don't stick with it.

I don't say that to knock the sport. Skiing gave me my whole life. I say it because I've spent 25 years watching it happen, many of those years as an instructor at the bottom of the hill shouting "bend your knees!"

The National Ski Areas Association puts beginner conversion at 19 percent, and it's sat there, flat, for twenty years. Four out of five people who try it walk away.

But, the mountain didn't scare them off. The first day did. Stiff boots, cold hands, a lot of falling, and a bill for learning to ski that nobody puts on a billboard.

The Run Where It Clicked

I was eleven or twelve, taking lessons at Nashoba Valley in Massachusetts. Our instructor that day was an older guy with a white beard and a wild, carefree vibe you could feel from the lift line. Halfway through the lesson, he told us to forget all the technical stuff.

"Pick an animal." he said. "Think about how it moves. Then ski like that."

We dropped into Dog Leg, a blue that skirts around Wardance, the big black diamond mogul run. I quickly picked a bald eagle. It has always been one of my favorites.

I still remember that run. Wide, loose, bouncy and effortless turns. For the first time I wasn't thinking about my skis at all. I felt weightless.

That run changed my whole relationship with snow. It had also taken me about seven years of lessons to get there.

It set the next 25 years in motion. At fifteen I was back at Nashoba teaching. After that came competing, skiing as a sponsored freeskier, and years working in marketing for ski brands. Then I got on a ski bike and started watching strangers find that same weightless feeling on their very first run.

Not seven years in. Day one.

Why Ski Biking Clicks on Day One

Skiing asks your body to learn a whole new way of moving. Two long planks locked to your boots, balance on edges, body movements that counter your wobbly feet. Few things in everyday life prepare you for it, which is why it takes most people years to feel at home.

For decades, the industry answer has been to improve lessons. We changed the equipment instead.

Handlebars allow you to steer with your hands and lean into turns the way you've rounded a corner on a bike since you were a kid. Your body already knows that motion.

More than a thousand riders have learned with me since 2018. I wrote the national course that certifies instructors to teach ski biking, and I've trained the resort staff who teach it. I have every reason to sell you a lesson. But I won't. It takes almost no instruction. Most first-timers are turning and stopping on their own inside the first hour.

That's what I call hours-to-fun. The new standard is how fast the mountain stops feeling like a test and more like a theme park. See how a first day on a ski bike compares to skiing.

It isn't skiing, and I'd never pretend it is. You still need a lift ticket. What you skip is the years of struggle waiting for it to click.

Who We're For

— The partner who always waits at the lodge.
— The family that splits up at the lift because nobody rides at the same level.
— The skier whose knees retired before their heart did.
— The friend who tried snowboarding once, spent the day on their backside, and swore off winter for good.
— The biker seeking that gravity-fed thrill when the ground is frozen.

If any of that sounds familiar, start with snow sports for people who don't ski, or find a spot to ride near you.

Ski icon Warren Miller filmed skiing for more than six decades. When he passed, his son Kurt summed up what his dad stood for in one line: He advocated, "the best technique was simply the one that allowed you spend more time with your family and friends doing something fun outdoors."

Not a word in there about perfect turns. That's the only technique we care about too. When the whole crew gets up the hill and back down together, the day changes. So do the days after.

Your Turn to Fly

I found that feeling pretending to be a bald eagle on a blue run in New England. It took me seven years.

You don't have to put in that kind of time and money anymore. Warren Miller had a line for anyone holding out for the right time: "If you don't do it this year, you'll be one year older when you do."

Come ride with us.

Fair warning: your cheeks will hurt.

Rob Aseltine
Founder, Harwood Ski Bikes