The Hills Are Alive & Kicking My Ass

Winter is here. There’s no denying it any longer. The trees are bare, the grass is brown, it’s colder than shit and it’s already snowed (twice). This reminds me that soon people will be asking me to join them on the slopes. Being that I do not like being outdoors in the cold (unless I'm drinking or walking to a bar where I can drink) I dread this request. I like winter for about a month; the month of December. Other than that it is a drag. It lasts way too long, gets too depressing when you don’t see the sun for days/weeks at a time, the salt on the streets stains my boots and dirties my car, and my feet are constantly wet from walking in thigh high snow. It blows. The only good things to come out of it are the multiple cute scarves and hats that I buy to match each and every outfit. And I can get away with it b/c winter lasts SO long up here in da nort. So at least I look great while out in the cold.

Anyway, back to the point of my post. I dread the ski slopes. I’ve only been skiing and snowboarding one time each. The one time I tried skiing was about 10 years ago. My boyfriend at the time took me up to Afton Alps for Valentine’s Day. It started out great. My boyfriend was a great ski teacher for me and I mastered the bunny hill in no time flat. He was seriously impressed with my skills and so was I! I couldn’t believe how fast I caught on. He quickly decided it was time for us to head to a green hill and was even saying that by the end of the day I could be on blues! No. Freaking. Way! I am a ski goddess!

We jump on the lift to head up to my first green hill. It’s wonderful. The hills are beautiful. And then we reach the top and I look down the slope and my eyes pop out of my head. No way in hell that this is a green. It’s massively HUGE. My boyfriend insists that it is a green and I have to do it b/c there is nothing easier than this besides the bunny hill (which was so easy it was boring). He informs me that he will go slowly in front of me just in case I get out of control. For some reason he thinks that he will be able to stop me if that were to happen. So I suck it up, put on my brave face and start slowly down the hill. Things start out okay besides my constant bawling in fear. I make it about ¼ of the way down the hill without any problems other than I am being passed by 2 year olds on snowboards and they make me feel like shit. And then… all hell breaks loose.

Stupid little kid, you think you're soooooo cool passing me down the hill. Well piss off.

I lose control. I’m flying down the side of the mountain at what feels like 2,000 mph. The whole motion of swishing back and forth to control my speed is not possible AT ALL. I swear on all things holy I am going to die. I quickly soar past my boyfriend who was so insanely stupid to think he would be able to catch me and am careening down the slope. The whole time I am swearing at the top of my lungs, “OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT!!!” My boyfriend takes off after me b/c now he thinks he can catch me and bring me under control, but for some reason he doesn’t realize I am going faster than the speed of light. I have got to be making the fastest time ever on this slope and I am amazingly (by the grace of God) still upright. My poles are flinging in circles on each side of me as I whiz down passing all those stupid 2 year olds who thought they were better than me. Then I look ahead and about piss my snow pants. At the base of the hill there is a line of people and I am heading straight for them. I’m screaming at the top of my lungs but for some reason they just stand there and stare at me. So what the hell do I do? I decide to try to sit down b/c it is the only way I will be able to stop and not super smash them. I do not suggest this approach.

I look approximately like this (minus the professional gear)

I tumble through the air, my poles flying out of my hands, one ski flinging off my boot and my chin scraping the ice cold snow. I stop about 30 feet from the line of people who are ALL staring at me in shock but for some reason never moved a fucking inch. My boyfriend comes flying up behind me asking if I am okay. FUCK NO, I’m not okay. I have road rash on my chin, my thumb is jammed all to hell and I’m scared out of my mind! There is no way in hell I am going down another hill if this is the easiest they are. Fuck off.

This is what I'm sure I looked like at the end of my fall (minus the helmet which would have been nice to have now that I look back on it)

I slowly rise to my feet, find my poles and missing ski and walk to the line to wait for the ski lift. I’m not talking to my boyfriend. I decide he is trying to kill me. I am done. No more skiing. I’ll just sit it out and wait in the lodge and get drunk by myself. We get to the top of the lift and look at the map to figure out how to get back to the lodge and I notice that the hill we were just on (that kicked the living shit out of me) was not a green hill as he had told me. It was a freaking BLUE. WTF? I guess he was right when he said he’d have me going down a blue hill by the end of the day. I’d just rather of not done it on my ass!

By the end of the day I did end up conquering that hill. All on my feet and swishing back and forth under control. And it Felt. So. Good.

Stay tuned for a story on my only attempt at snowboarding. Unfortunately I can’t say it went much better than this…