Snow starfish, Part 3

The rest of our ski night progressed much like the first two hills. Our friends would coax us down a hill. Once we reached the bottom, though, instead of trying the same hill again, we were pushed on to the next, bigger, hill. James and I didn't speak much that night, we just exchanged terrified glances. If our friends were confident in us enough to push us down a hill, we should be capable of handling it.

There was one big wreck. I say wreck because it was really a collision. At one point on one of the hills we all came around a turn together. There, in front of us, were about six people all laying about with skis everywhere. The beauty of skiing on a night when natural temperatures were about 35 in the day and 19 at night is that the snow, under so much use, would melt, then rapidly refreeze. This left us with ice-rink like conditions.

These people had hit an ice patch and all fell at once. When our group came around the corner there was no avoiding it. I narrowly missed someone's head and a tree and tumbled a little ways.  I looked over and saw James laying around a few other people, his skis sliding their own way down the hill a few yards. A few other people came around the corner, and now, with close to 10 people laying on the hill, they fell too.  One ski shot off down the hill on it's own. We took a moment to exchange skis, gather ourselves, help each other up, and went on down the hill.

So on we went. We would slide down the slopes with as much ease as a greased up buffalo trying to run down a water slide. Take a second to imagine that. Thank you. However, we were in fact skiing. We totally had this down! Even our friends, the pros, would fall every now and then. I had gotten to the point where I had even built up a little confidence.

Look at us! Certified snow bunnies.

When the time came to take on the biggest hill we were allowed to ski down we were totally ready. I had been carving up the slopes for like an hour already - so I was pretty much an expert - right? It was the last slope of the night, and the employees were pushing people down their final slopes so they could close up. We were so going to take on this big bad hill.

I was confident. I was ready. I was so good at this. Pizza, Pizza, French fry. I pushed myself off the steep starter hill that led to the behemoth of a ski slope. I followed my friends down. I was in rare form. I was carving up that hill. Woosh! Woosh! Woosh! I had rhythm. I had skill. I was on a role.

I swooped back and forth down the steep hill, smiling the whole time, utterly impressed with myself. I watched my group of friends, who had gathered at the bottom of the hill, who were watching me back. Look at me go!

I sped down the hill, faster and faster. It was the steepest hill any of my friends had dared take on that night and I was so killing it. Then...

CRASH! It was all over. In an instant I had tripped myself up. I don't really know what went wrong, but I had tripped myself over my own skis. I had really been picking up speed, and with the hill being so steep, when I crashed I launched myself, flying through the cold night air, I finally landed, with a thud.

When I crash landed I lost both my skis. I landed on my face. I had so much momentum built up that when I hit I shot quickly down the mountain, face down, arms and legs outstretched, like a starfish.

I starfished down the icy slope for quite a ways, spinning around. When I finally came to a stop I just laid there, face down in the snow. I heard someone ski up to me. A medic.

"You were doing really good there for a while!" Thanks...

"Do you need help up?" Yes...

"Ok..." Can I just lay here for a minute?

So I did. I laid face down on the mountain. unable to move, in part due to my layers upon layers of clothing (like A Christmas Story), and partly due to my traumatic spill. By the time the medic retrieved my skis and came back to me I had managed to turn myself onto my back. He picked up my legs and snapped my skis back onto my feet, one at a time.

He lifted me to my feet and checked me out. I was fine, just winded. He turned me around and gave me a little push. I had starfished so far down the side of the mountain that I was practically at the end by now. I pizza'd the rest of the way. My friends stood at the bottom, laughing and smiling. They pulled the ice out of my eyelashes and pushed me in to the ski lodge.

I don't believe I had mentioned, but our first time skiing was also our last. We would definitely go again, however, we would do a few things differently.

We would go during the day, so we can see where we are going. We would practice on a beginner hill a few more times, and we would make sure we didn't have anything to do the next day because, damn, I didn't even know I had those muscles. So there you go, two little greasy buffalo slipping down a water slide.