IF you ski or snowboard, chances are that you have seen a Nastar racecourse from a chairlift somewhere, or perhaps you skied or rode past one. They are straightforward, recreational racecourses, usually challenging enough to make it interesting but not scary.

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Ski Guides (December 6, 2007) You probably wanted to try it. But you thought: “I’m no racer.”

People will tell you that ski racing in America is on the decline, that it’s really more of a European obsession. Here are some statistics that might say otherwise. By the end of this winter, about 100,000 people will pay to make roughly half a million starts through Nastar courses at 125 resorts across the country. They will range in age from 4 to 94, and together they make up the largest recreational ski and snowboard racing program in the world.

Since Nastar courses are usually set up side by side, with each course about the same, most people race just to see if they can beat their buddy in a head-to-head duel. Or maybe they take on their siblings or parents. But there are Nastar National Championships, and racers can qualify individually or as a team representing the neighborhood or the home mountain.

The Nastar Nationals have become a ski industry phenomenon, attracting more than 1,300 racers, mostly skiers, but there are also categories for snowboarding, telemark skiers and monoskiers. Most racers bring spouses and families along, too, making the Nastar Nationals a particularly American, egalitarian version of a European World Cup event with thousands gathering to celebrate a pursuit of downhill speed on snow.

Racing dead? Did I mention that the national qualifiers have to pay their travel expenses to compete, this year making their way to Steamboat Springs, Colo., March 13 to 16.

“No one who goes to Nastar Nationals would ever again think that ski racing is passé,” said Doug Lewis, a former Olympic downhiller who is a national pacesetter for the Nastar Nationals. “It’s a wild scene.”

But as remarkable as the Nationals may be, the heart of Nastar’s appeal remains those moments on the local hill when someone skis past a Nastar course and decides to try it. In that moment, the goal isn’t a national championship, it’s to feel the rush of going fast where you’re supposed to go fast, to pretend for a minute to be an Olympian and to see just how good you really are. Hang around a Nastar course for an hour, and you will see toddlers, teenagers, twin-tippers, moms, dads, grandmas and granddads.

“There’s something about a racecourse that just draws people in,” said Mr. Lewis, who runs the Nastar program at the Sugarbush resort in Vermont. “Some people in the industry have this notion that people maybe don’t seek that kind of challenge anymore. But as soon as we set up a course, people come by and line up. It never fails.”

NASTAR, which is owned by Ski Magazine, is more than 125 recreational racecourses. Part of its success is the handicap system built in that allows every racer to compare his or her times with those that elite racers would turn in on that course. The same comparison can be made to one’s age group, even one’s overall racing ability level.

The handicap system is not entirely different from the one used in golf, the only difference is that a range of national and local pacesetters — beginning with Daron Rahlves, the recently retired American World Cup downhiller — set, in essence, the par for a course.

Nastar was largely the brainchild of John Fry, a former editor in chief of Ski Magazine, who established the National Standard Race in 1968. It has developed into four racing categories divided by ability and 50 different age and sex classifications. Based on the pace set for that course on the day you decide to race, you can win a gold, silver or bronze Nastar medal.

The cost to race varies from resort to resort, but Nastar officials recommend that the fee be $5 to race the course twice, $10 if you want to race all day and about $130 to $150 for a Nastar season pass.

If you want to qualify for the Nastar Nationals or be able to track your times on Nastar’s Web site (www.nastar.com), you must complete a short registration form. Depending on how you do in your classification, you could be among the 1,300 invited to the Nastar Nationals.

“Part of Nastar’s appeal is that it’s so simple,” said John Negomir of Littleton, Colo., who had no racing background until he jumped onto a Nastar racecourse about 10 years ago. “Pretty much anybody can do it. You run it when you feel like it, you go when you’re ready. There’s no judging, no sense that this is just for certain people. It’s more like, ‘Hey, give it a try, see if you like it.’ And most people do like it.”

Mr. Negomir, 43, finished sixth in his age group at last year’s Nastar Nationals. His wife, Tammy, was also sixth in her division, and the Negomir sons, 7-year-old Eric and 9-year-old Kyle, were each second in their age groups.

“It’s great because it’s something we can all do as a family,” Mr. Negomir said. “But I think there are a couple of things that appeal to most people. One, a lot of slopes are getting so crowded that there aren’t that many places you can go full speed anymore. Two, a lot of people hit a plateau in their skiing ability, and they really don’t know if they’re getting any better.

“But in Nastar, there’s a clock timing you, which is a way to tell if you’re getting better. The clock doesn’t lie.”

The deadline for qualifying for this year’s Nastar Nationals is Feb. 18. It draws a diverse crowd, though by then most have caught the racing bug.

“I’m always amazed at how 98 percent of the people at Nationals have racing suits,” Mr. Lewis said, referring to the tight, form-fitting Lycra or synthetic speed suits worn by elite racers. “That scene takes a little getting used to. But you know what? Everyone is trying to shave that last two-hundredths of a second off their time.

“They’re so into it, although I’ll bet most of them started racing one afternoon when they just decided to jump into the Nastar course they came upon. They saw it, and like a kid coming upon an empty playground, they said to themselves: ‘That looks like fun.’

“So they tried it. And it is fun.”