Blindness hasn't stopped Brueckner from skiing the Cornice at Mammoth

By PALMER GIBBS - NEWS-PRESS CORRESPONDENT 2/21/2003

Leslie Brueckner is an avid skier, dancer, biker and camper. She loves the outdoors and nothing keeps her from pursuing an active lifestyle.

Not even the fact that she is legally blind.

A self-described "closet sight-impaired person," Brueckner said she started skiing again after a 15-year hiatus. Her desire to become "a really good skier" was a lengthy process, she said.

The Santa Barbara resident, who suffers from retinitis pigmentosa, a degenerative retinal disease, is now proficient enough to handle the Cornice, an expert-level run at Mammoth Mountain.

Initially, though, she had to hold the hands of a guide to get down a green beginner's run.

While it was just a baby step, the sensation of being on the snow was overwhelming to her.

"Even with that minimal exposure, I knew I was hooked," Brueckner said.

She continued to progress over the next two ski seasons, advancing to skiing behind the guide while holding two bamboo poles parallel to their hips. Once she got accustomed to that, Brueckner moved to the front. Still holding the poles, she followed the directions from her guide who was behind her.

She then graduated to one bamboo pole as she and her guide would ski side-by-side with the pole parallel to the ground at about hip level. When this became easier, they started to use a race gate -- an eight-foot pole that is jointed 15 inches from the end by a ball bearing. The guide would hold the short end of the pole as they skied side-by-side.

"We were loosely connected, but he had no control over my movements or direction," Brueckner said.

The next level was to "ski verbal" -- her guide skiing behind her and shouting out directions such as "left, right, stop, traverse."

The guide also uses descriptive language to explain the run and snow conditions.

Brueckner has advanced so much that her guide now just tells her it's clear and then lets her go down the run.

"If there is an obstacle, or the run becomes crowded, he'll say he's taking over and begin to call out directions," Brueckner said.

Although she can see the dark forms of the trees on the slope, Brueckner cannot see other skiers. As she makes her turns down the run, her guide has to anticipate the moves of the other skiers. But Brueckner uses her acute senses of feeling and hearing to gauge the condition of the run.

"I use my ears and the feel of the hill beneath my skis to figure out the same things other people figure out by looking," she said.

Brueckner, who grew up in West Los Angeles, said her vision problems began in childhood. She started wearing glasses at age four. Childhood night blindness, along with her tendency of running into things, suggested retinitis pigmentosa, with which she was later diagnosed.

"When I was a kid everyone just thought I was clumsy," Brueckner said.

While she struggled with her vision, Brueckner excelled in sports.

She started swimming as a small child and by 7 she was approached by an Olympic swim trainer. Although her parents turned down the offer, Brueckner continued to swim competitively through high school.

She picked up surfing and volleyball in her teens and went skiing for the first time when she was 18. She said she enjoyed her first time on the slopes.

"It was just so peaceful, so beautiful. I remember feeling like I was floating," she said.

A year earlier she had been diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa. At the initial diagnosis, she was told that the disease was not progressive. But as an undergraduate student at UCLA, her initial diagnosis was changed.

"I felt bummed. Really bummed," she said.

Undeterred, she went on to earn a bachelor's degree in philosophy. Her pursuit of higher education did not stop there. She worked toward a master's degree in clinical psychology and then a law degree. All the degrees are from UCLA.

She married Anthony Brueckner in 1987 and retired from practicing law in 1988 to become a full-time mother. The couple moved to Santa Barbara in 1988. Anthony began working as a professor of philosophy at UCSB.

The Brueckners have two boys, Kurt, 14, and Kim 11.

After Kim was born, Brueckner noticed a drastic change in her vision. Since then, her vision has been on the decline but her attitude has remained positive.

"All of these psychologists keep looking for anger inside of me for getting dealt a bad hand," Brueckner said. "They all give up because there's no anger inside of me."

But there's plenty of passion, especially for skiing.

Now an advanced skier, she takes black diamond runs with aplomb. Her goal is to become involved in competitive skiing for the sight-impaired.

A member of the Santa Barbara Ski and Sports Club, Brueckner has a season pass at Mammoth, where she served on the resort's Adaptive Sports Foundation Board of Directors.

When she puts the skis away, Brueckner hits the dance floor for swing lessons on Tuesday and Friday nights. She also bikes in tandem on the weekends and hikes and camps with her friends and family.

Brueckner is not about to stop living life to its fullest.

"The fastest way to get me to do something," she said, "is to tell me I can't do it."