Corporate moguls: in Jackson Hole, a ski camp for overachievers.

Do you see this snowflake?" asked ski instructor Christoph Schork, pointing to a quartz-like shard glimmering in the sunshine. We were standing on the deck of Corbet's Cabin in Jackson Hole, at 10,500 feet. A sea of puffy clouds lay below us, perforated by the sharp peaks of the Tetons.

"It's a temperature gradient snowflake," Schork explained. "If a large layer of these build up in widespread areas, it's almost like ball bearings. When another layer of snow falls, it can't combine with it. Add the additional weight of a skier and the snow can break off and cause an avalanche."

In other words, this snowflake was capable, in large numbers, of killing me. That's the kind of detail, and danger, that lies at the heart of Steep & Deep Ski Camp, a four-day mixture of skill-enhancement, bravado and caution. The camp's guru is former Olympian Tommy Moe, who can teach us all a thing or two about staying focused while flying on skis.

Like all good ski camps, Steep & Deep is about taking your skills to the next level. And this is a very high level indeed. You progress from bowls to chutes to backcountry runs. If you're truly fearless, ,you cap it off with a 15- to 20-foot leap off the top of the mountain into the drop-dead chute known as Corbet's Couloir. After this leap of faith, you must make that first turn when you touch the snow, snow which is sometimes powder but just as often packed crud or ice. Fall to connect and you'll "rag doll" down the 50-degree pitch into the runout of Tensleep Bowl, leaving a yard sale of gloves, skis and poles in your considerable wake.

Given its emphasis on exertion, self-improvement and pure challenge, it may come as little surprise that Steep & Deep Camp is popular among CEOs. Many of the participants the week I was there ran their own companies.

There also was a strong international presence. A British executive whose company was involved in redeveloping Azerbaijan had flown more than 6,000 miles. "I've skied all over Europe and Asia," he said, "but this is where you come to get better."

It should also be said that Steep & Deep is an overwhelmingly male experience. Of the 40 people who had signed up for my week, about 90 percent were men. They ranged in age from 35 to late 60s. Many were traveling with a buddy or two.

This is a camp for people who already carve out 25 to 35 days a year to ski black and double-black runs at Aspen, Sun Valley or Zermatt. They hell-ski in British Columbia and maybe head down to Bariloche, Argentina, when they can snag a week in summertime.

On our first day, the pace was set. We assembled at the mountain's base in 20-below temperatures, severe frostbite warnings and fog. It was ,January, the heart of winter. (Unless you love the cold, I'd suggest the marginally warmer month of March.)

We began by launching ourselves into a ski-off into Rendezvous Bowl, a welcome mat of cut up crud, steep terrain and vertigo-inducing cloud. I flailed my way down--not entirely sure of where "down" was--and found myself placed in a small group with the Munich-born Schork as my instructor.

There were eight groups of five skiers, each with its own instructor. Moe would ski with all of us over the course of the week. But the day-to-day work is on the shoulder's of your instructor. I was lucky. The 40-something Schork possessed the Zen-like calm that only extraordinarily fit human beings have. A German army veteran who trained with alpine troops, he's taught Steep & Deep for nine years.

"We have three goals," Schork began. "To feel more comfortable in the steep terrain, to learn steep techniques and to learn steep tactics." From the outset, his mantra was "find your comfort level."

He started with the basics. "Your hand position is vital," Schork said. "You must have strong hands ahead of the torso, directed towards your next turn." We practiced consistently short turns in steep terrain. At noon, we broke for lunch in cozy Solitude Cabin, where, depending on the day, freshly cooked pasta, tortillas or fillets of salmon were prepared for us. Half an hour later, we stepped back into our skis, not to remove them until the mountain closed.

Day Two was chute day. Chutes are exceptionally narrow runs bounded on either side by rock faces. They are steep and often moguled. "Don't get distracted by rocks and cliffs and trees," Schork said. "Only point those ski tips towards places where you can see white, not what's shielded by a huge outcropping."

Easier said than done, as was the concept of self arrest that he kept stressing. "Know your whole line before you even start," he said. "Have a plan. Don't make a plan when you're halfway down."

One guy in our group opted for "Meet Your Maker," a straight shot of about 50 yards between rock faces that spits you out at 50 mph. I went for an easier chute, albeit one studded with moguls the size of Range Rovers. I got halfway down, trying to stay on my plan, when one ski came off and I somersaulted toward a big tree. When I finally managed to dig in my boots, I was laughing, but there was nothing funny about it. "I am way beyond my comfort level," I announced, as if anyone who witnessed my tumble couldn't tell.

"Yes," said Schork, seizing on a pedagogical moment. "But you did a very good self-arrest."

We graduated to steeper terrain, negotiating bumps that stretched to near vanishing point down the face of the mountain. We worked on hop turns, jumping off the snow with both skis, a tactic for narrow chutes.

By the end of the second day, it was all I could do to make it back to my room and collapse in the tub. I lacked the energy to walk even the 50 feet down the hall and go to the hotel spa. In the morning, after a profound night's sleep, I was stiff and sore. Stretching and a hot bath helped loosen me up.

Day Three consisted of an out-of-bounds tour. Outfitted with a transceiver, shovel and probe, we were ready for a lecture and demonstration on avalanches. The backcountry proved to he about powder, more chutes and fresh tracks.

On the final day, a third of the class leapt into Corbet's Couloir. I wished them well, but I chose not to join them, because frankly, I'd need at least one more go round in the camp to feel ready for that. Still, I had made impressive progress. I'd spent roughly 52 hours on the snow--a total immersion in chutes, moguls, steeps and sub-zero temperatures, with Schork's voice in my ear. And I'd toughened up to the point where I was biting off runs that would have floored me a few days earlier.

Steep & Deep Ski Camp

Jackson Hole, Wyoming

Four-day sessions will be held on the following dates in 2004:

Jan. 15-18    Jan. 29-Feb.
Feb. 19-22    March 4-7
Cost: $775

1-800-450-0477 www.jacksonhole.com