An Adventure

Despite loving the outdoors, I've never learned to ski. I've played at cross-country skiing before, but as every real skier I've ever met has been sure to inform me, cross-country skiing is Not Real Skiing. So this past weekend, due mostly to the vision and determination of my fair wife, we ventured up to the mountains. This is the story of how I didn't learn to ski.

A note: I don't like being a "beginner" at anything. When I am learning something, I prefer to hide away out of sight until I have gained some level of proficiency. If you've ever skied in Southern California, you'll know that there is no such thing as a private skiing environment for really bad beginners.

So we drove up the mountain and I put on my skis and stumbled around like Frankenstein on wheels with an audience of thousands, maybe millions. And they were all looking at me. It was great.

But that's not the real adventure. The real adventure lies in the fact that as we were arriving at the mountain, a big cranky winter storm was also arriving. We got our lift tickets, I signed up for the beginner class, and we started the ride up to the top, which seemed a bit out of order to me. Shouldn't we practice a little first before we leap off the lift at 8000 feet?

Anyway, I scrabbled my way onto the lift and watched as the ground gradually receded from view. This was NOT because we were climbing so high, but rather because the storm was getting heavier and heavier. Soon we began to imagine ourselves floating in a sea of endless gray. Out of the fog ahead a lift rider passed us on his way down, wrapped tightly in his parka. He lifted his head for a moment to croak, "Turn back now."

By the time we finally reached the top, we were in a virtual whiteout. The lift operators warned that it had started snowing at the bottom of the mountain and if we didn't have snow chains, we'd better head down now. Although I was just beginning to feel emboldened, we began to realize that this might not be the day to learn to ski. So we got a hot chocolate from the lodge and got in line for the lift back down.

So that's the story of how I went to the top of the mountain and didn't learn to ski. The picture is of us on the way down trying to keep from falling prey to hypothermia and frostbite. I'm thinking next time we'll check the weather before we go.