WaterSki Magazine

WATERSKI Magazine
2001-06-14 15:00:00 | 29 views | 1 Comments

Pure slalom skiers and hard-core wakeboarders come together under Miami's bright skies.



It was the perfect place to see a stone-cold credo of water skiing destroyed. You know the line I'm talking about - the one that says if I'm a dyed-in-the-fiberglass skier, then nobody, especially a wakeboarder, can come along and change my colors. And if I'm a wakeboarder, then don't come near my Fat Sack. Skiers to the right, wakeboarders to the left - and no mingling allowed.

That myth about segregation was put to rest one recent afternoon in Miami, appropriately enough at one of the country's most exclusive sites - a place called Lake Christopher, better known as the Miami Ski Club. So secretive is the site that some of the club's 125 members don't even know that it's called Lake Christopher.

After hearing slalom purists hail the site over the years, we decided it would be a nice summit site for a pack of world-class skiers - Wade Cox, Chris Parrish and Jennifer Leachman - to huddle with a bunch of high-flying wakeboarders - Darin Shapiro, Dana Preble, Charley Patterson, Chris Bischoff, Cobe Mikacich, Nick Heaney and me. Why choose the Miami Ski Club for this mix of water-sports tribes? We figured if we could all fit in here and be welcomed by the traditional guys and girls at the 40-year-old club, then the aforementioned myth would be officially dispelled.

We don't see much wakeboarding out here,” said one club member, glancing at three shredders lounging on the deck.

The club has always catered specifically to slalom purists. The six arrow-straight canals in the heart of an industrial park attest to that. To say the site is protected is a gross understatement. You'd never find it in a drive-by situation. The unmarked two-lane avenue that leads to the site narrows so tightly that only one car can squeeze between the semi-trailers parked alongside both shoulders. Our rig was dwarfed, not to mention out of place. It wasn't until a tall wooden gate was pulled open to reveal one of the club's six canals that we realized we were in the right place.

For a single-minded slalom skier, you couldn't ask for anything more - a course on each of the six fingers, no backwash, clear water protected from wind by the surrounding trees (and warehouses) and absolutely no traffic or annoying recreational boaters popping in for the day.

“We have six 'lakes,' and people don't even know they're here,” ski club president Jim Mosser says. “I tell people all the time that I ski. They ask where, and I point toward the trees and say, 'Right back there.' It's perfect for slalom skiing.”

And, as we found out, perfect for wakeboarders. Club members might not have known this about their site until we showed up and took turns on the nice, long canals. At both ends of each stretch there was enough room for big double-ups, and in the middle of one was a big floating dock that you're probably not supposed to slide  oops.

A few of the club's slalom addicts wandered down to the dock throughout the day. Not one complained upon seeing our overloaded boat throwing up waves on the main canal. They'd sidle up and stare for a few moments - impressed - before heading out to one of the quieter courses. As for Cox, Parrish and Leachman, all they wanted to do was ride with the gang, watch and pick up a few pointers.

I should point out that we were invited guests at the club's site. Skiers from the North are always trying to find great places to ski and board in south Florida. While the Miami Ski Club is absolutely ideal, it's also

absolutely closed to the public.

“People want to ski here, but we can't let people just show up and ski because of the location between warehouses,” says Mosser. “It's members-only. This is the only ramp on the water, so if you want to ski here you have to be paying dues.”

After introducing wakeboards to the ski club, we went out later that afternoon to find water that was more public, more visible. Biscayne Bay fit the description. You can't miss it if you're near the trendy South Beach district. South Beach is where lime-green and orange buildings are called “artsy,” and even the sidewalk has a pinkish hue. Biscayne Bay is the big body of water that has bridges crossing over it and neon lights shining off it. On this evening, it had wakeboarders flying over it.

This was about as different from the enclosed site at the ski club as you could get.

“I don't think you'd want to slalom out here,” Cox said.

Channel markers and dinner-cruise boats normally would have ruled out any kind of skiing or boarding. But with minor prodding from everyone in our small armada, Preble and Shapiro went out and put on a show. It was a quick one because a few minutes later the lights of Miami exposed us for all to see. The sun had dropped behind the skyline.

“Have you seen enough?” asked Preble.

Our answer was yes, even though the rest of the city might have wanted more.

You could say our experience in Miami was momentous. We're probably the only people in history who have skied and wakeboarded on Florida's most exclusive ski site and its most traveled waterway in the same day.