Years ago I read the Real Skier definition of finesse
skier versus power
skier (rather than ski), found their definition just undercurrent macho, and went with my own experience for the two meanings, informed by Real Skier definitions but using something different.
Man, for me, that thread
@KingGrump sent this thread to was just a rabbit hole, for me lots of abstraction, not much connection.
Fortunately, I could relate to his post with the two skiers who were examples of power and finesse type skiers, probably because his examples were real life, vivid, and the two words were apt in that situation/comparison.
In my experience, with similar examples of skiers I've known, often it has seemed like the finesse skier is more likely to explore - or need to deal with - what the ski likes to do, tends to do well, and then he/she does riffs on that as a baseline, experimenting with where that will go; while the true power skier can just get almost any ski to do what he/she wants it to do, with real power to overcome the ski's inherent tendencies more easily, and just do what he/she feels like doing as a baseline, what the situation and snow call for, rather than having to - or wanting to - pay as much attention to the tendencies of the ski. By these examples, a power skier can have a lot of finesse also - or not; and vise versa.
* * * * *
Then, for me, in that other, "rabbit hole" thread, things got mirked up when
@KingGrump went on to characterize Stein Erickson as a power skier, when to me he seemed to be a real combination of finesse and power in his skiing, with a lot of touch as an elite skier, whatever angle turn he happened to be making, however much he was imposing his own style on that pair of skis. (He did high and low angles both routinely on nearly every run.) And he skied with his legs as if glued together, very erect at that time, old school, no matter what characteristic Stein rotation and counter rotation with body/shoulders and arms he was using, with that style he was so well known for: you could spot him in an instant among a crowd of top skiers.
At one point in my life, I skied near/"with" Stein for two weeks nearly every morning to noon, two hours or so on Ruthie's Run on Aspen Mountain. It was his routine to do that every day, at that time, and it was mine also, as it happened. We'd start out up top where the lift ended, and finish the run two-thirds of the way down the mountain, where the lift started, at about the same time, occasionally going close to in sync, at near the same speed for run after run, though I'd speed up or hold back at times so as to keep up but not bother him. At some point, we took to going up on the lift together sometimes, after a few days. We said very little. Just skied. (I was pretty young, under twenty.) Usually, he was just in front of me on the run, but I'd lose track of him often and find myself ahead or farther behind without meaning to be.
At any rate, I got to watch him ski a lot up close, and
many months and years later found I'd learned accidently, by osmosis, to do a good imitation of that distinctive turn of his, without trying. It was fun, and not something I was doing back before that, nor for those few weeks. (However I was skiing, Stein had no problem, or he would not have been going up on the lift with me, or skiing at times in sync; nor would I with him.)