Buttoned-up engineering, unbuttoned.
BRZ Limited shown
MY PARENTS FELL IN LOVE WITH SKIING IN THE 1970S, AND THAT LED TO ME HITTING THE SLOPES AT AGE 7. WE REGULARLY JOURNEYED NORTH FROM NEW JERSEY TO SKI AREAS IN VERMONT AND NEW HAMPSHIRE – AN EXCITING ADVENTURE FOR A YOUNG JERSEY GIRL IN AWE OF THE MOUNTAINOUS TERRAIN WITH ITS PLENTIFUL SNOW.
With a set of snow tires on the rear of our large family station wagon and ski equipment in the cargo area, we were good to go. My brother, sister, and I thought it was fun slipping around in the snow to get into the driveways of our rented ski houses in New England. Im sure it wasnt much fun for our parents after five hours of driving.
What made it worthwhile was their new love of skiing, along with friends, wine, crisp cold air, the smell of pine mixed with a wood-burning fire, and ski chalets to explore.
VERMONT SKI HOUSE
In 1980, my father, a builder by trade, constructed a family ski house in Killington, Vermont. He did it single-handedly, using recycled materials from old jobs.
I was a freshman in high school. I felt athletic but had no outlet. I didnt play traditional sports, so I founded our high school ski racing team.
Our family vehicle became an SUV, and my parents tried to head up to the Vermont ski house every weekend. Wed drive four-and-a-half hours on a Friday night, ski the weekend, then return Sunday for school and work.
In the early 1980s, the family car became a Subaru station wagon. My parents knew the value of getting more miles to a dollar. Plus, we no longer had to get out of the vehicle to change the hubcaps to engage four-wheel drive.
I graduated from high school in 1983 and decided to attend an art school in New Jersey. I needed wheels for my commute. My parents, by now Subaru lovers for so many reasons, bought a used Subaru hatchback for me, and I learned how to drive a stick shift. I drove to school and, when the weekends came around, to Vermont.
I had my own Subaru. I loved it.
Killington had a famous run called Outer Limits. It was the width of a football field, twice the length, and loaded with bumps. The run was raw and challenging, but I was up for it, as were a new group of ski buddies. We called ourselves the Rat Pack.
Then fate took a turn: The art school closed at the same time I was falling in love with mogul skiing. To make things more interesting, the Rat Pack convinced me to enter a mogul contest. I won.
My journey had begun.
I set my sights on making the national freestyle team. I worked as a waitress in the evenings, and during the day – every day – I went up and down and up and down the bumps of Outer Limits. They say that if you do something for 10,000 hours you will become proficient. Well, I did my 10,000 and then some.
All the while my little Subaru got me there and back safely through wind, rain, snow, and ice. It never let me down.
With the money I made from waiting tables, I bought my first car – a 1985 Subaru sedan. The little white Subaru hatchback was passed down to my younger sister along with my (by now) expert stick-shifting advice.
In the 1987 season, I started winning all of my eastern competitions. I qualified for the only spot from the eastern division in the Freestyle National Championships, held in Squaw Valley, California. I placed sixth, and that gave me a slot on the U.S. National Freestyle Ski Team.
In the emerging sport of freestyle skiing, I was in the right place at the right time. During my rookie year, the sport took its place on the worlds largest stage, demonstrating in the 1988 Calgary Winter Olympics in Canada. Moguls was granted full medal status and would become an Olympic sport officially at the 1992 Albertville games in France.
What happened the next four years leading to Albertville was magical:
By 1992, I was favored to win the first Olympic gold medal for freestyle mogul skiing. The pressure was immense. Yet, as I stood on top of the Olympic course, I looked out across the mountainside and gave thanks for the journey that had taken me to this moment. I thought of how my parents, with their infectious love of skiing, unknowingly had paved the road for me to become an Olympic athlete with every round-trip from New Jersey to Killington.
That day, Im proud to say, I did bring home the Olympic gold medal for the United States of America. My name is Donna Weinbrecht, Olympic champion, and today Im driving my fifth Subaru.