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Published: December 29th 2017
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Ski Lodge
Enjoying a warm cup of hot chocolate after my skiing adventure! If you've never been skiing before, it's unlikely you want to go in the middle of the night. You probably also want to steer clear of the super-high Black Diamonds that beckon in the distance.
I should have known both of these things, but a few years ago I accompanied a few friends from a church group on a nighttime skiing adventure at Catalooche Ski Resort near Waynesville, NC.
The resort is about three hours from our church in the Triad region of the state. We all piled into the rickety old church van and set off around 5:00 p.m. After a drive-through supper, we arrived at the destination around 9:00. With two children under four, I'm exhausted by 8:00 p.m. most nights, so to be away from them and just beginning my snow-covered adventure was definitely a huge leap out of my comfort zone.
My husband and I navigated the lodge and the ski rentals just fine. A semi-experienced skier, he helped me pick out the right skis I needed, and we set out. I was so excited and eager (and more than a little bit nervous) to get on the slopes that I practically ran out of the rental shop and into the chilly, dark air. What happened next was more than I'd ever bargained for.
On the Chair Lift I hopped onto the chair lift beside my husband, our two friends in the cart in front of us. I was the only one who hadn't been on the slopes before, but I trusted that with these friends by my side, I'd be able to handle the terrain just fine. Besides, I'd been rollerblading before, and the two
are linked in terms of training and skill set, so I figured I could pick it up fairly quickly. How different could the two possibly be?
Turns out, very! I first realized this when we approached the moment I needed to get off the chair lift. I became totally consumed by panic and almost stayed on the chair. I supposed it would have circled back around and just taken me back to my pick-up point, but I wasn't sure so I lept off quickly, falling immediately to the ground.
This is the point in the story where I should mention I'd left my ski poles back at the lodge. It was much too late and too far to go back now, so I had to make it down that mountain sans support. My sweet husband tried to help, but when the wind's blowing and there are crowds whizzing by, skiing is a particularly singular adventure. He went on down and I tried to slow my pace. I crouched down and waved my hands frantically in front of me to stop the intense air I was catching. I couldn't see two feet in front of me and all I could hear were skis sloshing in the distance. Eventually, my fear overcame me and I rolled to a stop.
Hobbling On Home When I slid to that stop, my right ski fell straight off. So, here I was on the middle of the mountain, one ski still attached and one foot exposed and freezing cold. At that point, I knew any hope of actually making it down the mountain on my own was shot. In hindsight, I should have taken the time to
learn more about the ins and outs of shredding the slopes. I should have done some exercises to strengthen my core or at least researched some of the proper protective gear to invest in.
Yet, I tried to go it alone and ended up quickly realizing how much of a sportsman I really am. Ironically (and humorously), I saw my group going up on the chairlift again for a second round, as I was still struggling to make it through my first. I yelled to my friends but my voice was lost amid the cold night.
Suddenly, I saw my husband trekking back up the mountain. He was dodging skiers and looking quite clumsy himself in his massive skis, but he made it to me and picked me up from the snow. We held hands and hobbled back down to warmth and safety. While the rest of our crew kept going until nearly midnight, we finished up the adventure with cups of hot chocolate in the lodge, laughing about my shortcomings and misplaced poles.
That was a few years ago, and I haven't been back on any slope since. Like scuba diving, that's one extreme adventure I've tried once and might not attempt ever again. Still, there's something to be said about getting out there, taking new steps, and pushing yourself past your limits. Yes, even when that renders you helpless in the dark, and calling out for rescue. It was a memory made and looking back, a pretty sweet one at that.
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