I like to keep life interesting. So this past weekend I tried something new…I went skiing. Now, I will admit to you that I grew up in Denver very near the mountains AND I lived in Portland, OR for several years just miles away from Mount Hood. In spite of these things I somehow went through life never learning to ski. I never knew what I was missing. Now I know.
Let me tell you about my weekend. We traveled to
Monarch in southern Colorado. It was very cold. The high on Friday was something crazy like -6 or -8. It was freezing. Literally.
The first day I went to ski school with three other people from my group. It went well and I came out of it skiing with my toes pointed in. I couldn’t seem to break that habit all weekend. I practiced a bit more that afternoon and, after successfully making it down the easiest runs on the mountain, I was talked into going to the top and trying a blue run. The ride up on the ski lift was beautiful. I’m scared of heights so I was too afraid to dig in my pocket for my camera…I didn’t feel completely stable hanging from the wire and sitting with no seat belt on. So I just enjoyed the view while tightly gripping the bar next to me.
As we neared the top, I prepared myself to get off the lift. I had done this successfully several times on the bunny slope so I wasn’t too worried. This time was slightly different. I was getting off the lift and recognized the need to veer off to the side fairly quickly in order to avoid going over the edge and into a bunch of trees. I didn’t seem to be stopping so I tried to just sit down and stop myself that way. Somehow in the process of sitting I ended up face planting in the snow with my legs sprawled out behind me. It was like something that happens in cartoons. Pretty funny stuff!
The first part of the run was okay. I was a little nervous but seemed to be doing pretty well for a first timer. Then things got worse. All of the sudden it was really steep and narrow. I was scared and afraid of going too fast and losing control. Everything I did ended with me falling down in the snow. I was getting more and more frustrated and all I wanted to do was get off the mountain and rest in the safety of the lodge while sipping hot chai. It must have taken me an hour to get down to the lodge and I had snow in my pants by the time I made it there. I was done for the day…there was no way anybody would convince me to get back out there.
In all the excitement I must have managed to rip my ski pants because when I put them on the next morning there was rip down the seam…right in the crotch. Great! I couldn’t ski like that! It was cold and wet and I was bound to fall if I put ski’s on. That is not a place I wanted to risk getting frost bite. So I spent the better part of the day searching for a way to fix my pants. In all of the mountain, there was no needle and thread to be found! The next best thing…duct tape. It fixes everything, right? Well, the unfortunate location of the rip is not a place to have a strip of bright silver duct tape, especially when the pants are black. I felt this would be very inappropriate. I did, however, manage to get the duct tape in place and out of sight. Thanks to the duct tape, I was able to get back out there and ski on day three. For my own safety and the safety of all others on the mountain, I opted for a second round of lessons.
Skiing was quite the experience for me. It was a lot of fun and I made it back home in one piece. For now, I’m happy to be back to my normal daily activities in OKC. We’ll see what ski trip holds for me next year…
