THE PROVIDENCE JOURNAL BULLETIN

April 8, 1985

Taming a Mountain of Handicaps

By Mike Szostak

NEWPORT

Take a piece of black construction paper, punch two pinholes in it and hold it to your face.

Not much to see, is there?

Now imagine plunging down a mountain on a pair of skis looking through that piece of paper,flying over bumps and carving turns around gates, not sure of how fast you’re going until you feel your teeth chatter as you skid to a stop.

This is Brian Hubbard’s view of the world, where two pinholes of light are his windows to snow-capped mountains in winter and Newport’s traffic-clogged waterfront in summer.

A degenerative eye disease called retinitis pigmentosa has left Hubbard with a field of vision of only five degrees. He also suffers from a partial loss of hearing and, compounding the RP, cataracts in both eyes. ("It’s like I’m always looking through a fog," he said.) He also is one of the best handicapped skiers in the country.

In the last three winters, Hubbard has won seven gold medals, three at the national level, and one bronze. He won the downhill race at the U.S. Alpine Ski Championships for the Visually Impaired this winter in Duluth, Minn., and qualified for the national team that will compete in the World Handicapped Games next year and the Handicapped Olympics in 1988.

Hubbard is the only New Englander among the six men on the visually impaired team. He’s also the only member without a sponsor.

"By winning in Duluth, Brian has shown that he has the mental staying power and the talent to be a world-class skier. He’s done all this despite a lot of financial hardship on himself," said Paul DiBello, a double amputee who won four gold medals in the 1982 World Championships for the Disabled and now supervises the program for handicapped skiers at Winter Park, Colo.

Hubbard, 38, has received equipment from several manufacturers and retail shops, and realizes there are hundreds of athletes who would love to have sponsors pay their expenses for competition. But he considers his involvement more than just personal.

"I’m involved not so much for the personal satisfaction but to be in a visible position to make these opportunities available to other people," he said. "I really believe that disabled athletics are important because it gives a lot of credit to a lot of people. If a handicapped person is going to function in a meaningful way, he’s got to develop his inner resources."

Hubbard’s goal is to be selected for the international demonstration team of handicapped skiers that will perform at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary. But that will require training away from home.

He has talked informally with officials of Smuggler’s Notch in Vermont, where there’s an active program for blind skiers. And in Minnesota some people urged him to consider a handicapped program in Kirkwood, Calif.

"It’s a dilemma," said Hubbard, a social worker in private practice in Newport. "I’m confident that if I wanted to pursue this, I would get results. But my ties are in New England."

Hubbard learned to ski as a youngster in Lynn, Mass. Long before the RP reduced him to legal blindness. He later became a ski instructor but didn’t start racing until three years ago.

The nationals in Duluth, sponsored by the U.S. Association for Blind Athletes, was his only competition this winter. He won the downhill by a whopping 14 seconds.

"It was incredible," Hubbard said. "When I first heard it, I thought it was four-tenths."

A bar of soap aided Hubbard’s amazing run. His guide (blind skiers follow a sighted guide down the mountain), Paul Naschak of Winter Park, suggested that Hubbard wax his skis and then coat them with soap. He even made Hubbard walk to the starting line in his boots rather than his soaped up skis.

"He even placed my skis under the starting wand for me. I had to step into the bindings there. He told me not to move, but I was shaking," Hubbard said.

"I think that visually impaired skiing is the most difficult, the most challenging," said DiBello. "You have no idea what’s going on other than the voice commands of your guide. Your reactions have to be very finely honed."

Three raps on his helmet got Hubbard going. He quickly found the tails of Naschak’s skis and concentrated on them.

"The biggest problem," he said, "is the preparation of the turn. You can’t anticipate the gate or any change in terrain. Knowing the course is helpful, but if you get too hung up, you can think too much."

His narrow field of vision means Hubbard can’t see the trees as he passes by.

"I have no frame of reference as far as speed is concerned," he said. "The only way I know how fast I’m going is when I stop and my teeth start chattering and my bones start rattling."

Hubbard finished his run in 1:07.5.

"It felt fast to me, but I wasn’t sure it was going to be fast enough," he said. "I saw from the look in Paul’s face that something good had happened. People were funning over to us, and although, I couldn’t see all of them I heard words like ‘Wow!’ and ‘What a run!’"

Brian Hubbard would love to hear those cheers at Calgary. He knows there are obstacles, but he remains undaunted.

"The problems are resolvable," he said. "I can be pretty determined."