A cluster of pale yellow leaves still clings to a skinny gray-barked maple up near the end of the driveway, the last remaining foliage of autumn here, the final excuse to cling to the sailing season. But in truth, my mind has for a long time been on other endeavors.

I recall a point in May, when I should have cleared my mind of all thoughts not dealing with preparations for sailing in the Bermuda One-Two, when all I could think of was the distant season for downhill ski racing.

Last week, I emailed Todd, the former US Ski Team member who has agreed to tutor me in downhill technique. I wanted to make certain we would schedule a session on a New England mountain as soon as there is snow. And we will.

It was Todd who sold me a pair of brand new downhill skis last winter. I have been imagining riding those skis ever since -- all the way to Bermuda and back.

Skiing has remained one of my passions even though, in recent years, I have devoted resources to sailing instead. Three seasons ago, I decided that I wanted to return to skiing by commiting my self to competing in downhill races.

That first season -- 2006-2007 -- I had trouble finding a downhill race to enter. I did find a Super-G race, the other discipline considered a "speed" event. But I managed to crash in practice, injuring a knee. A month later, I'd found a downhill race and entered it, only to have it postponed due to too much snow.

What I learned is that amateur downhill races seem to come in two varieties. In one class of downhill, there are a lot of gates that keep the average speeds rather low. You are lucky if you can exceed 70 miles per hour.

Then there is a pure speed event. Some times, the only gates are the starting and finish gates and you simply ski in a straight line and see how fast you can go. In one event, the racers at times exceed 90 miles per hour.

In 2008, I entered a downhill with lots of gates. I enrolled in a training camp prior to the race. I misunderstood the instructions and attempted to ski with a technique that seemed foreign. It turned out it was the exact opposite of the technique the instructor was espousing. Blame it on my inadequate understanding of modern skiing vocabular.

in 2009, I was still trying to accomplish this odd skiing technique -- a style that made me extremely slow despite my honest labor. It was only after the only race I ran in 2009 that I learned how badly I had misunderstood the instructions.

That prompted me to engage Todd as my tutor. My hope is that when I finally get in the starting gate of a downhill race in the upcoming skiing season, I'll be doing things correctly.

I don't care if I win or place. I simply want to go as fast as I can on skis. I'm expecting it to be thrilling.

Now I go to sleep at night visualizing the course that I've now run twice. In my imagination, the skis are carving through turns and, when I let them run straight, they slip over the snow barely touching. It is a wonderful fantasy.