Monday, February 09, 2004

I survived the ski trip!!

Friday night, after getting into a fight with my father, I went over to Christy's. We chilled out for a couple hours. At midnight we went to pick up Ricky at the hospital after he finished work.

We drove up, and reached Brattleboro, Vermont where we spent the night. We slept from 3-8:30am, then like excited children on Christmas morning, got ready and drove the rest of the way. The ride was another 3-4 hours, but Vermont is so gorgeous, time just flies.

So since we reached there before the rest of the crew (4 others), we put on our snowpants and things in the car. Yours truly was looking very fly in black snowpants, a yellow ski jacket, goggles, hat and gloves. Ricky and Christy are expert skiier/snowboarder, so they had their stuff and went to the mountain.

I walked to the ski rental place, got skiis and my ticket for a beginner lesson. The lesson began at 1:45pm, and I was all ready by Noon. Since I didnt know the first thing about skiing, and did NOT want to attempt anything by myself, I stood around surveying the mountain for a bit. Then I tried to make it look like I was tired from skiing all morning. When I figured that me standing there for an hour completely devoid of snow on my skiis and myself, I kept looking at my watch to pretend that I was impatiently waiting for someone.

Lesson time came, and I was very happy to see a nice group of adults who were very friendly. Our instructors came, and we went on the chair lift! I thought we'd practice our moves at the bottom of the hill! I was so nervous, although I enjoyed the chair lift ride. As I've never been on a chair lift, in my attempt at getting off, I knocked over the people on both sides of me.

They had taken us on the 'beginner' hill, which was a steep incline for beginners (in my humble opinion). I kept reminding them that I dont know the first thing about skiing, and they seemed quite fine with it. So they said to ski to a certain point which required me to move downhill. Since I have no control, I was heading towards another trail, with the instructor screaming, "Dont go down that trail!" and myself screaming back, "I dont know how to ski!"

There were 2 instructors and 1 gave me a private lesson (because thats how much help I needed). After a few tries I got the hang of it, and I was enjoying myself immensely. The only times I fell were getting off the chairlift. Then it started snowing, and I felt like the queen of the snowbirds skiing in the snow.

Then I go back to the lodge since the park was closing, and meet up with everyone. Of course Im so excited that I skiied, while everyone else is talking about skiing from the top of the mountain and glading (something about skiing through I was trying to avoid the trees, and my friends are purposely going through them). It snowed some more, and we just hung around, talked, ate and drank.

Next morning, I decided to continue skiing since I got the hang of it. It was f*in cold out. O degrees F, with a windchill of -14 degrees F. Not cool at all. My hands were frozen. One thing I did not get used to was the speed one can attain while skiing. There were points I would nearly panic. When you cross a patch of ice, it only makes you go down the hill faster. This would also result in me falling down at a faster rate due to my panicking. This is when I decided skiiers and snowboarders are my favorite athletes. I had so many people help me up, bring me my poles, and encourage me to keep trying, because once I got the hang of it I'd like it. Not to mention how friendly everyone is on the chairlift. I was chatting up a storm. Lots of Canadians too, since this place is 10 miles from the Canadian border. It was awesome.

I skiied for about 5 hours that morning. I finally stopped after a nasty fall in which I could have sworn I saw my knee cap roll down the hill, and when I couldnt feel my toes. My boots fit funny the second day, so I decided to call it quits for the day. (Only an hour before we left!)

As I sat in the car, my body cramping up, watching the sunset over the mountains, I was feeling good. I was proud of myself for bearing the cold, doing a sport that Im scared of, and going somewhere new. I bought a sweatshirt as a little souvenier of the little mountain I semi-conquered.

Im in so much pain today. Im walking like a robotic penguin. Its nice to know I have muscle under my fat. I'd definitely love to ski again.

Of course, this means I get to go shopping for ski attire which will make me look tres cute.

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