A two-hour trip from Beijing, Nanshan is one of the most popular ski areas in China, and a classic example of how the sport is catching on against steep odds.
Nanshan is a pint-sized hill with a single white strip of ski run sticking out from the baked-dirt landscape. It is abutted by farmers' fields; from the chairlift, the view through the distant smog is of factories and smokestacks. Skiers are bombarded with ear-splitting, brain cell-zapping dance music broadcast throughout the hill's several trails on Nanshan's public address system.
One day I heard it broadcast a startling message: a stern and utterly piercing voice admonished us to treat the slopes as we would the roads. I have never been so scared by a PA announcement. Beijing is a city where driving is a Darwinist, nail-biting fight for survival. Treat the slopes like the roads?
Before the average motorist gets behind the wheel of a car, he or she takes lessons and has to pass a test. But skiers and snowboarders - the bulk of whom have never so much as seen a ski anywhere except on TV - grab the rented snowsuit and gear, stand atop a hill covered mainly with artificial snow, and let gravity take over.
Cars have brakes. But it takes more than simply stepping on a pedal to counter the downward motion of skis and snowboards, but most visitors forgo lessons.
There are no expert-rated roads, or streets that are too difficult for beginner drivers to navigate. Drivers own their means of transport; ski and snowboard ownership is minimal, and we are much less careful with gear we rent.