Skiing

Our ski trip to West Virginia was a success! But it sure didn't seem like that would be the case on Monday afternoon. Upon arriving on the slopes and putting the skis on the kids, Megan proceeded to stand still sobbing "I wanna go home" for at least 10 minutes straight. And Jake fell down the first time he tried to get on the little conveyor belt thing and got really mad at me for "making" him go skiing. And me....well, I wanted to cry, too. I couldn't believe that we had spent close to 8 hours in the car to come up to this beautiful mountain so I could listen to my kids complain. Enter Eric. Daddy to the rescue, thank goodness. Clearly, Eric was not as exhausted or exasperated as I was and was able to persuade Megan to actually move from her sobbing spot. And Jake - after a successful ride up the conveyor belt and a successful "run" down the tiny ski school slope, he didn't want any help from anyone. "I can do it myself!"

Around 3:30, I had to ski down to another lift so I could ride it up to check into our condo. It was one of the longest, slowest ski runs I've ever experienced (well, except for the time when my sister fell down, tearing her ACL, and refused to allow me to call for help from ski patrol. We were on the LONGEST run on the mountain on our way back to the condo and I think it took us over an hour to get down the mountain) Anyway - off I went to the "real" slopes. It was steeper than I expected. And I was feeling way older than I expected. And I was thinking that perhaps this whole skiing thing wasn't a good idea after all. It was overcast and snowing fairly heavily. The slopes had been chopped up by the gazillions of other skiers that had gone before me. I had no goggles, my toes were frozen and I felt like I couldn't see a thing. I also felt like I couldn't ski worth a damn. I went slow. I was cautious. I was nervous that I would fall, tear something and be laying on the snow forever waiting for someone to rescue me. But, alas, I made it to the proper lift to take me to the check-in desk without breaking anything, without falling down, without working myself up into a total panic.

Tuesday was a new day. While I was carefully making my way across the mountain on Monday afternoon, Eric had devised a fabulous way to ski with the kids. He would stand next to Megan or Jake and hold one end of the ski pole while they held the other. They held on tight and off they went. So on Tuesday, Megan and I paired up and Jake and Eric paired up and we went to the beginner slope. By 3PM, Megan and I had made 18 trips down the hill and up the lift. It was truly a toss-up as to which she liked more...the skiing part or the riding the lift part. Megan had half the slope in stitches: as we would ski down the hill, she would scream at the top of her lungs "go faster, Mommy" followed by "Yaaaaaaaaahhooooooooooooo!" It was a hoot. Meanwhile Jake and Eric "accidentally" traversed down a blue slope. They made it down without any injuries, but Jake did fall down once...and hasn't let Eric forget that!

I once again got a chance to go ski some of the other slopes and I felt like a whole different person. The steep hills didn't phase me. I found my rhythm. I was having fun. I flew down the slopes. Thank God! I still had it. I wasn't turning into a nervous Nelly. But the sub-zero temperatures got to me and I went in to give Eric a chance to snowboard until the lifts closed at 4:30. (Seriously - the air temp was about 12 and the wind chill was making it feel like -6! That is freaking cold!) It was a great day.

Wednesday morning, Eric and I tagged-teamed again: he stayed with the kids while I skied and then vice versa. I was at the top of the slope when Ski Patrol took the ropes down (we were staying at the top of the mountain) right at 9AM. I swished. I swooshed. The slope was in perfect condition. It had snowed about an inch or two after the groomers came through so there was a nice powder on top of he neatly combed snow. It was unbelievable. If only it hadn't been so darn cold. Those four runs on Wednesday morning made every tear, every whiny moment, and every scowl worth it. And to top it all off...Megan declared that she wanted to go skiing on her birthday EVERY year!

photo by Jake

This was the view from our condo