Skiing

Photo Credit: Josiah Wannemacher

Here's an article I was assigned to write for my homeschool co-op newspaper. Hope you enjoy. : )

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I could feel dread washing over me. I gripped my poles tighter, and shifted anxiously on my skis. As I gazed down the slope, my mind reminded me that skiing was a crazy idea and that I should detach myself from those things attached to my feet and walk back down to the warm and safe lodge. My father, who was standing next to me, began to instruct me on how to turn while skiing, how to-- Suddenly, I was bumped by a snowboarder as he exited the ski lift. Down I went, quickly gaining speed. I knew in that moment that I would probably die on that terrible slope; the bunny hill.

On the car ride home I declared I would never ski again. The day had gone hopelessly wrong. While I didn’t die on the bunny hill, I almost did (or so I thought) when Dad took me down Long John, a 2 mile long Green (easy) Trail. Halfway down, just as I was getting the hang of skiing, I tripped and tumbled for about 10 feet. When I tried to stand up I found I couldn’t. Somehow my left boot, which had come free from its ski, had slammed into my right knee creating a huge, horrible bruise (that lasted for over a week). Daddy managed to help me ski down the remaining mile of the trail, and then I stayed in the lodge for the remainder of the day.

Now, 2 years later, I look forward to skiing each year.

My stomach tightens with anticipation as we crest the hill to the entrance of Mount Snow. As soon as Dad stops the car we jump out and start carrying in our ski gear. With our snow pants on, boots correctly tightened, and coat zipped up to Mom’s approval, we traipse outside to our skis. Standing in line at the lift to the summit, we wait impatiently. Exiting the lift, we quickly make our way over to the beginning of the trails that wind down the face of the mountain. Gazing down, I smile with pure joy. Oh, how I love to ski.

The first run is always slightly awkward, being the first of the season, but soon I regain my agility. After what seems to be only a few minutes, we gather for lunch at the base lodge. If we hurry through lunch, we sometimes have time for one more run before our lessons begin.

In order to separate the 75+ students into classes, the ski class students are tested on the bunny hill, which has been prepared with obstacles to test our ability. Usually, I’m one of the last students in line, so I’m able to watch the kids from other nearby schools complete their run. Some fly through the course with ease, while others slowly inch down the slope. Last year, I did fairly well; I was placed in the “F” class – third highest (A, B, C… to H). 

While at times I despise the group ski lessons, as some of my fellow students are extremely annoying, they do help me advance my ability. If you have the opportunity, I highly recommend joining a group that participates in ski lessons at a nearby ski mountain.

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-Autumn Story Mott