Water Ski Therapy

When a friend mentioned a program that water skied physically challenged persons, they were words I had been looking ten years to find. I’d been searching for some kind of way to get back to the water, but never had I talked to someone who had actually done it. On his tip, I located the Texas Adaptive Aquatics site via the net. Today, I approach it by car on the northeast side of Lake Houston, Tx.

At 10:30 in the morning, the complacent waters of the lake lap gently against the bank. I’m apparently the first one here, so there’s time to think about the day ahead. Faint flashes pass of how free it once felt to ski: no cares, no worries; just fun, water, and friends. Boy could I use a healthy dose of that again. For certain, there were at least a hundred times when I thought I’d never be back, but those doubt are quickly running out of time.

On a second glance, the lake’s surface appears glassy, extending the ultimate invitation to an old skier. My eagerness swells.

Red Ross, a TAA leader, pulls in at 11:00 with the rest of his cohorts in tow, Roger, Alan, Sandy, Dean, Jeff, Jenny and Jimmy. I can see that quad skiing is going to be quite the group operation. And it will be right after some quick introductions and a few minutes to gear up and hit the water.

I instantly have a host of new friends, a good thing considering I'll be trusting them with my life soon. 'I hope they’re up to the challenge.'

With quad skiing, the skier rides on an extra wide slolem called a kanski. It has a special seat bolted to its mid-section and a place near the front where the ski rope can fasten. If so, and when a skier lacks the ability to hold on to the rope, such as my case, an operator in the boat releases it on impact. Now that’s what I call the “buddy system.”

Once in the water, Dean helps me into the seat as Jeff prepares to ski along side. He’ll provide support until I get going and be the first one there when I fall. Hesitantly, I slip down into the quad seat while Dean attaches the rope. A strange feeling begins to arise. I’d been in this position a thousand times before, yet never with such an enormous impression of unsteadiness. Small fears begin to circle: How am I going to pilot this thing? What control will I have?, and worse yet, What is going to happen when I fall?. Everything speeds up from this point on. No time for tentativeness. The TAA guys are ready to go, and their confidence is contagious.

The engine whines. Alan throttles up, Sandy spots, and Roger works the release. We surge forward as the boat churns toward a higher plane. Dean hangs on from behind as I rise out of the water, then drops off to follow on his jet ski. Jeff is already up, skiing over to hold the side of my ski. Excitement rushes. I’m up. Skiing again.

Red and his staff hold clinics such as these several times a year between the months of April and October. They get several out-of-state requests and hold events throughout the country. They ski both physically and mentally challenged individuals, and it doesn’t take long to see that they are great at what they do.

Special Thanks To: Red, Jenny, Jeff, Roger, Dean, Sandy, Jimmy, Alan, and all the folks.