Darkness was still folded around me when my alarm clock wrenched me from my much coveted sleep. I groaned as I stumbled out of bed, 6:00 on a Saturday morning! My hubby and I had 30 minutes to get ready before she would pick us up. I looked at him and asked, “Remind me why I am doing this again?” I felt as though butterflies had sequestered my stomach and would not relinquish it, no matter how I tried to reason my nervousness away. I reminded my self that I had chosen to do this and that I would enjoy myself. But visions of that goofy cartoon, the one where he is trying to learn to ski, just kept invading my brain. I had never strapped on skis in my entire 30 years of life, so why was I subjecting myself to this now? It gave my something to bog about, I reasoned, and it was a chance to do something new; not to mention an entire day free of children is an extreme rarity.
We drove up to Mount Hood, the world gradually turning white as we climbed. It was a long wait when we arrived at the small lodge before we finally obtained our boots and skis. I thought rollerblades were hard to get your feet into! My ankle nearly snapped like a twig just trying to get the boot on. Once booted I awkwardly tramped to the counter for my skis. After I was completely set I began my ungainly stagger up the hill to the training area. I think I was a little unprepared. No one had warned me that the boots were going to kill my feet and my legs, or that the rope tow would likely jerk my arms off. I had this rosy image of myself beautifully skiing at the end of the day . . . well, that is a fib; I actually pictured a giant snowball rolling down the hill with skis stuck out of it! But, I didn’t even get that far. I had forgotten that I have problems with my arches so after an agonizing trip down the training hill I had to give up. I was completely bummed out and felt like a wimp, but my one saving grace is that I will live to try again and this time I will be prepared!
I decided to go tubing instead. Now I would like you to take a moment, close your eyes, and picture . . . oh, wait, I guess you can’t read with your eyes shut, so just picture goofy on an inner tube. It was a blast and very comedic I am sure. I managed to keep my seat rather well, except for . . .
The tuber came down and handed me his tube, upon inspection I noticed it was a bit misshapen. As my turn came I handed it to the rope tow operator, sat on my tube and was slowly hauled up the hill. There is no elegant and graceful way to climb off an inner tube in motion. I finally resulted to flinging my self gawkily in the snow and having a good laugh experimenting with different methods of gracelessness. On this particular tube run there were a couple of little jumps that you could get some pretty good air, if done right. I am a tummy slider, better for aerodynamics and speed. As my time arrived I stood holding my tube in front and hurled my body forward, slamming into my tube on the track for the maximum speed possible. The first time it had worked like a charm (other than sailing over the embankment at the end and taking down three teenagers, hee hee), the second time . . . well, we’ll blame it on the misshapen tube. I hit the jump and sailed through the air. Landing on the bulge I was jarred to the side and my body was completely off the tube. I had stoically kept my grip however and was now being dragged unceremoniously down the track. I finally managed to stop and, righting myself, took off at break neck pace once again. Upon hitting the second jump I once again took to the air. My landing was not as lucky. For the second time I landed on that bulge and my tube flipped sending me sailing solo down the track leaving my hat and goggles embedded in the snow. Nothing like a good wipe out. 🙂
I met up with my hubby (I had sent him off to enjoy skiing for a while) and we head to the car for some lunch. The snow had begun to fall more heavily, waltzing elusively around us as they drifted to the earth. The wind came unexpectedly, launching them into a frenzied boogie and then slackening just enough to let them flow into a romantic tango.
Paul went to do a few more ski runs and I headed again to the tubing. Some time had passed and the track had become more slick and icy and the jump had been worn down more. I prepared for my departure and unleashed myself with fervor. I hit that jumped and sailed into the air landing on the upper ridge of the track. I continued to slide on the ridge for a good 5 plus feet before sliding down the embankment of the track. I struggled through the snow and slid the rest of the way down. I guess they frown upon people sailing off the track because they moved the starting point further down to eliminate the jump. 🙂
It was a fun adventure and I know I haven’t seen the last of skis or of the mountain. Bring it on!