What a day.
I woke up at 7:15, peered out my window, and saw white puffs from heaven falling on the ground- SNOW! It was almost time to get on the bright, yellow school bus waiting for me outside the Athletic and Wellness Center (which quite literally is RIGHT behind my building!) I had my ski stuff in a duffel bag, some cash, my phone, and I’m ready to go! I get on the bus, with the whole seat to myself (like that EVER happens on school buses.) It was quite a tricky process getting to Hunter Mountain. I don’t know why, but the bus driver kept pulling over and asking for directions. EEE! My dad woulda been furious, us getting to the mountain so “late.” Anything over ten minutes after the lifts open is considered bad- news-bears according to our family ski policy. AH, but surprisingly I wasn’t frustrated. I was cool as a cucumber.
As I mentioned in my previous blog, I just signed up on a whim for this trip, and didn’t try to recruit any other students to go with me. I figured, hey- I like skiing, so I’m just gonna go. And ya know what? It was a good experience. I made my way through the maze of renting my ski equipment (which I still have to go through because I’ve never gotten around to getting my own boots/skis/poles…) I had to put my duffel bag in a locker, which barely fit! I luckily had some singles so I tried to un-do the folds in them in order for my Washingtons to be eaten up by the machine. I was surprised to find ONE token fall. A dollar a token? Really? But then again, should I really be that surprised? Then when I was all ready to go I realized…**** I forgot my goggles in my duffel bag. So I whip out my key, open up the duffel, get my handy dandy goggles and then pay another dollar to lock the bloody thing up again. I just wanted to ski and I was boiling in there with all those layers on!
I was ready to hit the slopes! The closest lift I set my eyes on, I was on it! The skis weren’t bad. I decided on 150s instead of 160s which is what I usually use. I opted for a smaller ski, length-wise, because I wanted more control, instead of more speed, which is what I’d get if I picked a longer ski (like 160s). My reasoning behind this was it was snowing like crazy and I wasn’t sure how well I’d be able to handle all that fresh powder. I’m not use to powder-skiing. I knew this before I went up the mountain. I’ve never been out west, regretfully, but hopefully someday I’ll be making fresh tracks on those trails.
At any rate, my predictions were right, and my legs were having difficulty deciphering the extreme differences between the huge piles of fresh snow and the ice underneath it (or right along side of it.) However, I didn’t want to stop. It was a challenge, especially since I wasn’t waiting for anyone. Therefore I raced down the mountain, went on the lift by filing in the singles line, and skiied down again, and again, and again. When I’m on vacation with my family or friends, we usually all wait on the side of the trail to make sure we have everyone before we continue. Usually…if we aren’t too antsy to continue skiing. So we get some more resting time….My lift ride was my resting time.
I had some interesting conversations with people on the lifts. There was a father and his two young kids. The boy was the youngest and he kept making dinosaur noises at me with boogers running down his nose, while his older sister tried to kick his skis off. That was interesting. Another time I was accompanied by three snowboarders who were discussing some raunchy t0pics, until the guy next to me exclaimed, “Hey guys, we have a lady present.” They all strained to look at me, and then came out with a bunch of “Oh-I’m-so-sorry’s.” OH come on like THAT really offended me. Another guy said, “Oh, I thought you were a dude. Not like you LOOK like a dude. I mean you do have a helmet on, but no, I just thought a dude jumped on the lift with us. Guys usually do that. That’s all. You really don’t look like a dude though. Honest.” ( Ok- you can stop saying the word dude, for one, and I get what you mean, so please stop babbling.) Ah- I couldn’t stop laughing. Then they whipped out a flask and shared some sangria, exclaiming how it was some of the best they’ve ever tasted. The guy next to me offered me some, but I politely declined, for several reasons which I didn’t list aloud.
So it was 1:30ish and my legs were ON FIRE. I was having trouble staying in control on the diamonds after a while, because my thighs were sore and my back leg was getting lazy with each turn. I decided it’d be a good time to get some hearty lunch and take a breather from the snowy hills. I went inside, ripped off all my wet gear, and bought myself some chili in a bread bowl (splurge!) It was delicious and warm and ahh hit the spot. I sat there for a bit, enjoying the warmth returning to my cheeks, as I watched ESPN’s bowling championship on TV. That wouldn’t be the first channel I’d turn the TV to, but ya know, my eyes lingered to it often.
After a little more stalling with finishing off a small hot chocolate, I knew I had to get back outside. It’s always hard for me to leave the warm confinements of the lodges to go back outdoors in the flurries. That’s why I don’t like to stop. At any rate, there was a family sitting close to me at the same rectangular table as me. The closest family member was a young boy with a freckled face, copper hair and a big toothed smile. He liked to tell knock knock jokes, which I overheard through out the course of my meal. When I was gearing back up, he was getting up to throw out some garbage. On the way back from his trip to the pale, he sat down next to me, looked up into my face and smiled while saying, “Well, hello there!” It was one of those smiles that kids are famous for. He grinned extra wide, with his eyes shut and his nose crinkled to emphasize the extremity of it all. Then he slid down the rectangular table’s bench on his butt, until he made it back to his family. What a cute kid.
Now, this is where the story gets dramatic. WHERE DID MY SKIS GO? I couldn’t find them anywhere. My skis and poles weren’t where I left them, so I checked other racks to see if someone moved them for some odd reason. I tried on random pairs, which looked the same as mine, but didn’t fit of course. So I came to the conclusion that my skis were stolen. Who the heck would steal rental skis? I called my dad all flustered. Of course I just sat at a table inside, biting my finger and trying to hold back tears as he told me not to worry about it. I grunted “uh huhs” as answers, afraid that if I actually constructed real words, the waterworks would start flowing. I knew what I had to do. I dragged my feet to the rental place, and told them how someone’s taken my skis (well really THEIR skis.) Funny story! Someone already returned them, thinking they were their’s and that they weren’t working anymore. In fact girly, they were mine, and you made me almost go out of my mind with worry! But it’s all good, because I don’t have to pay for some lost skis. PHEW!
At that point, it was late in the day, so I just decided to return my boots, and read some homework while chugging some water and unwinding. It was nice to relax and get some reading done. Before I knew it, it was 4:15, so I got back on the bus and by 6pm we were home. After that there was some more reading to get done, some dinner to put in my belly, and some Oscar’s to watch. By the way, I’m SO glad Kate Winslet and Sean Penn won the Oscars! ‘Bought time Kate Winslet! ‘Bought time!
Oh and by watching the Oscar’s it made me realize I watch NO MOVIES!? Why is that? I want to watch EVERYTHING….RIGHT NOW. Haha so if anyone is up for a movie night, just contact me, and I’m sure I’m game!
Ok sorry for so much writing, but there were a lot of interesting details I wanted to share. Until next time,
Kristen