Snow starfish, Part 1

In honor of the great storm "Nemo" that is wreaking all kinds of havoc on the northeast later today, I thought I would write about something snowy. A couple of our friends invited James and I to go skiing a few years ago. Neither one of us had ever gone, so of course we said yes.

After we had agreed to go skiing James and I did what we always do... we got to googling. Where I am from there were always "ski clubs" growing up. The kids I went to school with would join the clubs and learned how to ski from a young age and went a few times every winter. Our group of friends all grew up in the "ski club" world. Out of all of the extracurricular activities I participated in, skiing was not one of them  - you may recall my crippling fear of heights and things that go fast (and birds). Our friends were all pros, at least compared to us.

I believe that knowledge is power. From the moment I agreed to go skiing I started worrying about it. I had about 4 days to youtube-learn how to ski on my own. So I started learning. I watched videos, I called my friends, I looked up death rates, you know, the usual. I probably watched 3 hours worth of ski instruction videos from the 1980's. Although they did nothing for my practical application, they did make me feel better about barreling down an ice covered mountain on nothing but two sticks. They also made me a little nostalgic for my badass windbreaker suit from grade school.

So, James and I conferred after talking to our friends one night. They had told us "Pizza, Pizza, French Fries". This was to be our motto for the next few days. We talked about our strategy and memorized the motto.

Then the day finally came. We headed north to Perfect North Slopes, not too far from my hometown in Northern Kentucky. We were to meet our friends there. James and I talked the whole way up, he seemed really excited to try something new. I was still worried about how they were going to get me to the top of the hill without using a ski lift.

We were going night skiing, by the way. It was cheaper and totes cooler than regular skiing. All the popular kids are doing it. We finally got off the exit and drove a while, past a small town, through some woods, and then came around to a giant parking lot. We looked around... oh, whew... we saw the hill. Not that bad! We can totally handle that...

Then we pulled around a little further. There we saw the ski lodge, people were streaming in and out of it. It was all glass on both sides so we could see the warmth and fun people were having inside. They hung about in clumps, skis stacked against the walls, hot cocoa steaming from cups.. but there... dwarfing the ski lodge... was the mountain....

"Ack! Damn!" I quickly whipped around in my seat and stared at James. He was sitting there, slack jawed and wide eyed staring at the mountain. "That?" Yea. That.

So we pulled in and parked. We had about 15 minutes before our friends arrived. Plenty of time for us to sit in the car, watch the people shooting down the side of the hill, tumbling past each other, and flying off ramps. Five more minutes would have been just enough time for us to decide to get the hell out of there.

But, alas, our friends had just pulled up. They were all piled in a van, covered in their snow gear, clanking skis around, ready to go. We trudged outside. They directed us where to get our ski and boot rental and we went and got suited up.

For someone who has never worn ski boots or skis before I think we did well. They are awfully awkward. They come up just high enough to keep you from being able to use your ankles which leads to the wobble-walk. When our friends met us around the rear of the ski lodge we told them we were a little nervous. They laughed it off and told us they had no problem teaching us.

We followed, as best we could, as our friends scooched over to the bunny hill. Just at that moment a girl was being carted off in an ambulance with an obviously broken limb. Foreboding, indeed.

So. Here we are. French fries. French fries. PIZZA! PIZZA!