Early Kickoff of Ski Season
It's that time of year again when the weather gets cold, snow falls and Fiancee's friends, coworkers and boss kindly offer up their Vermont cabins and vacation homes up to those (me & Fiancee) less fortunate. Nothing I can complain about when we get free lodging next to a ski resort. The Fiancee and I went two weekends in a row and will be going again next weekend. With all this practice I'm getting on the slopes, I'd better improve by the end of this season!
For the first weekend in Vermont, the Fiancee's friends won a weekend stay at a Vermont cabin that sleeps ten. Bright and early at 4AM on Saturday morning, the Fiancee's friend showed up at our doorstep ready for a 3 1/2 hour road trip. I managed to drag myself out of bed and into the backseat of the friend's car where I fell right back to sleep for most of the drive (I'm not the most exciting travel buddy on a road trip, (maybe) unless I'm driving). When we arrived at the cabin in Vermont, everyone else was already there from the night before. After quickly unloading our bags and grabbing a bite to eat at the cabin, the three of us dashed off to Mount Snow, anxious to hit the slopes.
It was freezing cold out there, but the conditions were perfect with a thick blanket of white, powdery snow so soft that falling felt like landing on a fluffy pillow. Generally, these conditions are ideal for improving your technique with the diminished consequences of falling. But for some reason, on my second black diamond (what was I thinking?!) I must have looked a bit inexperienced while trying to maneuver my way to the left for a smoother (although extremely steep) descent down rather than to the right where I was headed for the bumpy, mogul-filled terrain. Looking a little bit flustered that I had skiied a little too much toward the right, I turned my head after hearing a nearby voice:
Miss, you're not a real good skiier, are you?
Huh? Ummm, well...
You really should turn back. These trails are the toughest on the mountain. It's really dangerous. If you take your skis off and walk back uphill, you'll find some nice greens and blues that would be much better for you.
Ok.
Go back up the mountain. You shouldn't be here.
Now, I realize that the old man was concerned for my safety and just trying to help, but this confidence-draining, fear-inducing advice was not helpful now that I was standing on a massively steep black diamond slope.
My first inclination was to take the man's advice. Stuck on the side of the mountain, I popped off my skis (Mistake #1 - Not being "a real good skiier", having to put your skis back on while standing on a near vertical slope is really a two, maybe even three, person job) and started inching my way back up to the top of the mountain (Mistake #2 - Try inching your way up a near vertical slope. Add on the pressure of thinking that everyone on the ski lift above you is staring at this ridiculously pathetic sight. Throw in a pair of skis and poles to hand carry and tell me that you wouldn't slip and slide). The slope was just way too steep and slippery. I hadn't gone more than 6 inches before I found myself sliding uncontrollably down the mountain on my stomach. I thought I'd never stop, but eventually did. Now I was in a state of distress. There was no way I was climbing back up the mountain after sliding down about a third of it, and the final two-thirds of it was still frighteningly steep. Sitting hopelessly on the side of the mountain, I pulled out my cell phone and decided to call the Fiancee for advice. He had been waiting patiently for me about halfway down the mountain and had already taken off his snowboard to climb up the mountain to look for me when I called. Climbing up a steep mountain is slow and tiring, so I slid myself down a bit more until we met. The Fiancee helped me back into my skis and cheered me on the whole way until I made it safely down the mountain. I was done with black diamonds after that. We finished off our day with a few more blue intermediate slopes and then headed back to the cabin after 5-6 hours on the slopes.
Back at the cabin, we all showered up before the Fiancee started to make everyone a nice dinner of Cuban-style chicken with rice, black beans and fried plantains. The cabin was nearly empty by the time we got back, as the other group had hit the slopes and came back about an hour after we did.
Everyone munched on a variety of gourmet cheeses and crackers while sipping wine until our scrumptious dinner was ready, which we all devoured, especially since we'd had a full day on the mountain. And then for our evening entertainment, we had shots and board games. My favorite was Balderdash where you had to make up definitions to words that no one has ever heard of on little strips of paper. The mediator would also write out a fake definition and the real definition on strips of paper before reading out the word, each made up definition, and the real definition. Then it was everyone's turn to guess the correct definition to win points. Points were also awarded to those whose made up definitions fooled others. I didn't guess the correct definition too often, but my made up definitions fooled enough people to put me in the running for first place at one point even though I finished third at the end. By now, I was too full of rum and too short on sleep to stay up much longer. The Fiancee, his friend and I turned in early. We'd have to drive out early the next morning since the Fiancee's friend had a family event to attend in the early evening.
The following weekend, the Fiancee's coworker offered up his Vermont vacation home to a few coworkers, which brought us back up to Vermont for another weekend. The Fiancee and I drove up at around 7AM on Saturday and arrived a little after 11AM. We decided to relax at the house on Saturday and have Sunday for a full day of skiing. While the coworkers did a half day on the slopes, the Fiancee and I napped by the fire, then read quietly, then napped again and then finally went out for a bit of snowshoeing around the house and over the frozen lake outside. Later that night, we all went out to a local seafood restaurant for dinner before settling back in the house to play drinking card games, which I don't find quite as fun as playing board games while drunk. Most drinking card games are about luck. All you do is flip a few cards here and there, and you're bound to end up drinking every other time. To me, it doesn't seem much different than everyone sitting in a circle and just taking sips one after another. But anyway, the Fiancee and I didn't want to get too hammered since we were going to ski the next day, so we turned in a little before midnight and tried not to drink too much.
The next day was horrible for skiing, as it was sprinkling. Regardless, we decided that we could handle skiing in the rain. Surprisingly, there were quite a few people on the slopes despite the bad weather. Supposedly, skiing in the rain is actually advantageous since it helps your control (or so the ticket lady kept saying). I think I might agree with that, but the Fiancee absolutely didn't. On a snowboard, he found that the rain made the slopes icy and hard to stay up on. My only complaint was that I was soaking wet even though my ski clothes claimed to be waterproof (guess it has it's limits). After about an hour and a half of tumbling around in slush, neither of us was having much fun, so we wasted our day of skiing and went back to the house to dry up, have lunch and then drive home.
For the first weekend in Vermont, the Fiancee's friends won a weekend stay at a Vermont cabin that sleeps ten. Bright and early at 4AM on Saturday morning, the Fiancee's friend showed up at our doorstep ready for a 3 1/2 hour road trip. I managed to drag myself out of bed and into the backseat of the friend's car where I fell right back to sleep for most of the drive (I'm not the most exciting travel buddy on a road trip, (maybe) unless I'm driving). When we arrived at the cabin in Vermont, everyone else was already there from the night before. After quickly unloading our bags and grabbing a bite to eat at the cabin, the three of us dashed off to Mount Snow, anxious to hit the slopes.
It was freezing cold out there, but the conditions were perfect with a thick blanket of white, powdery snow so soft that falling felt like landing on a fluffy pillow. Generally, these conditions are ideal for improving your technique with the diminished consequences of falling. But for some reason, on my second black diamond (what was I thinking?!) I must have looked a bit inexperienced while trying to maneuver my way to the left for a smoother (although extremely steep) descent down rather than to the right where I was headed for the bumpy, mogul-filled terrain. Looking a little bit flustered that I had skiied a little too much toward the right, I turned my head after hearing a nearby voice:
Miss, you're not a real good skiier, are you?
Huh? Ummm, well...
You really should turn back. These trails are the toughest on the mountain. It's really dangerous. If you take your skis off and walk back uphill, you'll find some nice greens and blues that would be much better for you.
Ok.
Go back up the mountain. You shouldn't be here.
Now, I realize that the old man was concerned for my safety and just trying to help, but this confidence-draining, fear-inducing advice was not helpful now that I was standing on a massively steep black diamond slope.
My first inclination was to take the man's advice. Stuck on the side of the mountain, I popped off my skis (Mistake #1 - Not being "a real good skiier", having to put your skis back on while standing on a near vertical slope is really a two, maybe even three, person job) and started inching my way back up to the top of the mountain (Mistake #2 - Try inching your way up a near vertical slope. Add on the pressure of thinking that everyone on the ski lift above you is staring at this ridiculously pathetic sight. Throw in a pair of skis and poles to hand carry and tell me that you wouldn't slip and slide). The slope was just way too steep and slippery. I hadn't gone more than 6 inches before I found myself sliding uncontrollably down the mountain on my stomach. I thought I'd never stop, but eventually did. Now I was in a state of distress. There was no way I was climbing back up the mountain after sliding down about a third of it, and the final two-thirds of it was still frighteningly steep. Sitting hopelessly on the side of the mountain, I pulled out my cell phone and decided to call the Fiancee for advice. He had been waiting patiently for me about halfway down the mountain and had already taken off his snowboard to climb up the mountain to look for me when I called. Climbing up a steep mountain is slow and tiring, so I slid myself down a bit more until we met. The Fiancee helped me back into my skis and cheered me on the whole way until I made it safely down the mountain. I was done with black diamonds after that. We finished off our day with a few more blue intermediate slopes and then headed back to the cabin after 5-6 hours on the slopes.
Back at the cabin, we all showered up before the Fiancee started to make everyone a nice dinner of Cuban-style chicken with rice, black beans and fried plantains. The cabin was nearly empty by the time we got back, as the other group had hit the slopes and came back about an hour after we did.
Everyone munched on a variety of gourmet cheeses and crackers while sipping wine until our scrumptious dinner was ready, which we all devoured, especially since we'd had a full day on the mountain. And then for our evening entertainment, we had shots and board games. My favorite was Balderdash where you had to make up definitions to words that no one has ever heard of on little strips of paper. The mediator would also write out a fake definition and the real definition on strips of paper before reading out the word, each made up definition, and the real definition. Then it was everyone's turn to guess the correct definition to win points. Points were also awarded to those whose made up definitions fooled others. I didn't guess the correct definition too often, but my made up definitions fooled enough people to put me in the running for first place at one point even though I finished third at the end. By now, I was too full of rum and too short on sleep to stay up much longer. The Fiancee, his friend and I turned in early. We'd have to drive out early the next morning since the Fiancee's friend had a family event to attend in the early evening.
The following weekend, the Fiancee's coworker offered up his Vermont vacation home to a few coworkers, which brought us back up to Vermont for another weekend. The Fiancee and I drove up at around 7AM on Saturday and arrived a little after 11AM. We decided to relax at the house on Saturday and have Sunday for a full day of skiing. While the coworkers did a half day on the slopes, the Fiancee and I napped by the fire, then read quietly, then napped again and then finally went out for a bit of snowshoeing around the house and over the frozen lake outside. Later that night, we all went out to a local seafood restaurant for dinner before settling back in the house to play drinking card games, which I don't find quite as fun as playing board games while drunk. Most drinking card games are about luck. All you do is flip a few cards here and there, and you're bound to end up drinking every other time. To me, it doesn't seem much different than everyone sitting in a circle and just taking sips one after another. But anyway, the Fiancee and I didn't want to get too hammered since we were going to ski the next day, so we turned in a little before midnight and tried not to drink too much.
The next day was horrible for skiing, as it was sprinkling. Regardless, we decided that we could handle skiing in the rain. Surprisingly, there were quite a few people on the slopes despite the bad weather. Supposedly, skiing in the rain is actually advantageous since it helps your control (or so the ticket lady kept saying). I think I might agree with that, but the Fiancee absolutely didn't. On a snowboard, he found that the rain made the slopes icy and hard to stay up on. My only complaint was that I was soaking wet even though my ski clothes claimed to be waterproof (guess it has it's limits). After about an hour and a half of tumbling around in slush, neither of us was having much fun, so we wasted our day of skiing and went back to the house to dry up, have lunch and then drive home.
posted by LANYTransplant at 5:51 PM
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