Dance teacher Jacques d'Amboise shares his passion for the arts and nature with those he meets along the Appalachian Trail on his trek to raise $1 million for dance education.

Jacques d'Amboise is the first to notice the snake.

Other city slickers might shudder, but the world-famous ballet dancer simply pauses to admire the glistening ebony body -more than 4 feet long -stretched across the Appalachian Trail about a mile north of Port Clinton.

"Snakes are beautiful," he says, taking care to tread lightly around the reptile so he won't disturb it on a recent Saturday afternoon.

Marveling at the streaks of red in the rocks underfoot, broad wingspans on the hawks overhead - and, yes, even close encounters with non-poisonous serpents - the 65-year-old d'Amboise seems invigorated by every step as he realizes a boyhood dream of walking the entire 2,160-mile Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia.

"Look, we're right on a ridge," he says, eyes shining as he surveys a valley below. "On either side, it's just beautiful. Fantastic."

D'Amboise is more than an avid hiker out to savor the glories of nature. He's a teacher on a mission to share his passion for the arts with folks he meets along the way -especially children -and to raise $1 million for dance education.

"Hey there, stranger. Stepping along together. Hey there, stranger. Stepping along with a friend."

Four days later, d'Amboise will sing these words with exuberance onstage at the Milton Hershey School in Hershey as 30 gleefully stomping elementary students imitate the bouncy little jig he calls the "Trail Dance."

The Hershey stop is one of the 37 planned visits to towns along the trail, where "the Johnny Appleseed of dance," as he calls himself, finds willing pupils as diverse as third-graders wearing plaid jumpers and inmates serving time at a medium-security prison.

This first Sunday in September - as he makes his way toward Hershey -d'Amboise meets two hikers from the Wyoming Valley who ask for an impromptu lesson. With an engaging smile, the dancer agrees.

"I've had hikers on the trail doing it in clearings. I've had scientists at MIT," he says. "There's nobody that can't learn this dance."

Setting aside the two ski poles that help him navigate the terrain, d'Amboise shows Beth Ann Witkowski of Forty Fort how to move to the music of a French Canadian tune.

"One, two, three, four." The dancer begins with walking steps, familiar to the trudge of the trail. "Hey there, stranger," the dance teacher sings. "Maryland's gone, get set for a shock. Pennsylvania's next and most of it's rock."

Witkowski, a recent Wilkes University graduate beginning a career in social work, quickly catches on, moving from side to side and moving her weight appropriately. Her hiking partner, a less-coordinated newspaper reporter, will require further study.

Getting Started

Through donations and pledges, d'Amboise hopes to raise scholarship funds to train 2,000 dance teachers at the National Dance Institute. He founded the school in 1976 while still at the peak of his three-decade career with the New York City Ballet.

"We have to give these kids the best," an earnest d'Amboise testified in late May, telling members of Congress about the need to fund arts education. "We can't give them junk, because then they learn junk, grow up to be junk and pass it on."

The next day -Memorial Day -d'Amboise and his oldest son, George, climbed Mt. Katahdin in Maine to begin the "Step-by-Step" trek, which they expect to finish in December after traversing 14 states.

"Here we are, Mt. Katahdin," the senior d'Amboise said when they reached the summit. Briefly resting his head against the mound of rocks that marks the northern end of the trail, he added, "I'm gonna hug your brother in Georgia, and when I'm there I'm gonna do a little dance for him, like I'm gonna do for you."

As a thunderstorm threatened, d'Amboise danced before director John Avildsen ("Rocky" and "The Karate Kid") and a Los Angeles film crew who are making a documentary about the trip.

Fourteen weeks later, he's in the middle of Pennsylvania -grimacing at the rocks that discourage many a thru-hiker. "They're horrible," he says. "Especially if they're wet. The lichens get like grease."

Packing Light

The notorious rocks prompted d'Amboise's friends to convince him to "slack-pack" through the state instead of carrying the extra cooking and sleeping gear he needed in Maine's 100-mile wilderness, where there are no options for spending a night in a hotel.

"He's only carrying lunch and water," said production coordinator Rosemary Carey, who arranges the dancer's schedule. "We kind of insisted on it in Pennsylvania. He has had more operations on his knees than you can count, and we don't want him falling with a heavy pack."

On a typical day on the Pennsylvania trail, d'Amboise hikes 15 or 20 miles. His son George, a recent victim of toe blisters and a twisted ankle, drives a support vehicle south to the next trailhead and then hikes in to meet his father.

For both men, being together is the best part of the adventure.

"Eat your heart out," a grinning d'Amboise said early on the trek. "I'm spending seven months with my son, whom I love so much, and I'm rediscovering him."

George d'Amboise -who took seven months off from his two jobs in Boulder, Colo., for the journey -is learning more about his father, too, as he reveals over a post-hike supper in a diner near Port Clinton.

"It's so funny to watch dad. When he's hiking, he's kind of stooped. When he's dancing, he's all shoulders back, neck straight, head up. He's looking at the audience."

Memories of Madame

One of Jacques d'Amboise's first audiences was a group of girls in his sister Ninette's ballet class. He was 7 years old, and his mother had sent him along to keep him off the rough streets of New York City's Washington Heights.

Resting on a fallen log between Hawk Mountain and Port Clinton, d'Amboise munches a peach from the Wilkes-Barre Farmers Market and recalls how his first teacher, Madame Seda, won him over.

He was a bored spectator, squirming and making noise, when Madame Sela issued a challenge: "Do you think you can jump as high as the girls?"

"As I was doing it -terribly -she said, 'Isn't he wonderful, girls?' They all applauded."

All that week at home, young Jacques practiced changements, ballet jumps in which the feet change places in mid-air. When he did 32, Madame Sela praised him.

"Wonderful. Can you do 64?"

Again, he complied. And again, the teacher reassured him with a compliment before offering yet another challenge.

"Bravo. But you made noise. You need to practice plies at the beginning of class so you won't make noise when you land."

The deep knee bends gave him the control to land quietly. But his arms and head, as Madame Sela pointed out several classes later, were flailing about and making an awkward picture. He needed to study port de bras to learn how to hold them.

"By then, I'm hooked," d'Amboise says.

Eight months after he became part of the class, Madame Sela told the children's mother that Jacques and Ninette were talented enough for George Ballanchine's School of American Ballet. "They are much better teachers than I," she said.

"The modesty!" d'Amboise says, slapping the log for emphasis. "The only boy and the best girl in the class" -Madame Sela relinquished them for their own good.

In 1989, d'Amboise wrote about the generosity of his first teacher in an article for Parade magazine. Hundreds of former students read it and contacted Madame Sela.

"My mailbox is full and so is my heart," she wrote in a letter to d'Amboise. Eager to see her again, he planned a visit -only to arrive in time for her wake. "When you have a feeling, don't wait," he says, pushing his lean, muscular body off the log to resume his hike. "Always do it."

The Hungry hiker

Hikers are famous for their appetites. And d'Amboise, who lost 20 pounds from his 6-foot, 1-inch frame on the first two weeks of his trek, orders crab cakes with a calorie-laden side dish after a 15-mile jaunt on the trail.

"You won't forget the dish of mayonnaise?" he asks the waitress, as he props his right knee -the one with tendonitis -on a chair in a diner near Port Clinton.

Later he'll order two desserts -tapioca and coconut cake- only to graciously slide on across the Formica table top to a new friend he met earlier that day on the trail.

As he eats, d'Amboise talks about his passion for teaching. "All teachers are really performers," he says, offering advice on how to give a science lesson. "You come running in and hit the wall and bounce off and say, "That's what atoms do."

"Every time I use dance to help a child discover that he can control the way he moves, I am filled with joy, " says d'Amboise, whose National Dance Institute programs have touched the lives of more than a half million children. "Dance is magical. It's natural. It's glorious and it's necessary."

The legendary d'Amboise is part of a dance dynasty that includes his daughter Charlotte, son Christopher and wife of 44 years, Carolyn George. His daughter, Catherine, who is Charlotte's twin, and son George chose other career paths.

"We're the black sheep," jokes George d'Amboise, who is grateful for early dance classes but abandoned them long ago in favor of organized sports.

A Time to Teach

Half an hour before a Thursday morning assembly at the Milton Hershey School, it's time for a sound check.

"Gentles, perhaps you wonder at the show," d'Amboise speaks into a microphone, humorously quoting a line from Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream."

Indeed, wonder will spread through the auditorium as the 600 gathering students realize just what d'Amboise's project entails.

"You mean he's walking from Maine to Georgia?" asked an astonished Nicole McKimmon, 17, who had never heard of the Appalachian Trail. "He's got a ways to go."

In fact, d'Amboise faces about 1,160 trail miles between Hershey and Springer Mountain in Georgia. But first he has some teaching to do. Joined on stage by his assistant, Tanya Nicholson from Jersey City, N.J., and his son, he surrounds himself with an enthusiastic group of young dancers. Some move the right way, some move every which way and one boy's shoe keeps coming untied.

"That was Dennis. He was great," George d'Amboise says afterward, reflecting on the kids he met onstage. "And Steve, he wanted to be in front, he wanted to be next to me."

The Trek Resumes

After some final hugs for the Hershey students, Jacques d'Amboise is ready to hit the trail for six miles before dinner.

But first, two women from New York are waiting for him in the Hershey School cafeteria. Selma Gold and her cousin JoAnna Goldfin have followed his career since the 1970s, when they were mesmerized by his performance with Allegra Kent in the "Diamonds" dance from George Ballancine's "Jewels" collection.

"He reaches across the footlights and just grabs you," says Gold, whose first fan letter led to a warm friendship.

The older women's faces glow with delight as d'Amboise approaches and wraps them in an embrace. "Oh, my golden girls. I'm so happy to see you two," he says.

The cousins plan to visit North Carolina in a few weeks and might be able to meet the dancing hiker when the trail takes him there. That would be wonderful, he tells them.

"They can rave about Baryshnikov. They can rave about Nureyev," says Gold, shaking her head and gazing fondly at the down-to-earth d'Amboise. "This man can do it all. And he's not your typical celebrity. He's just Jacques."

EDITOR'S NOTE: For Jacques d'Amboise's, "Tales from the Trail," check out the interactive Web site www.ndi4all.org. To contribute to the National Dance Institute, write to 594 Broadway, Suite 805, New York, N.Y. 10012. For a $21.60 donation, you'll receive an instructional "Trail Dance" video.

  

...back