Climbing Mountains

This is a post about the ski trip. Yeah, a bit delayed >_>

My parents are no longer the athletic type. Their days of playing sports are behind them. In fairness, I'm told that my dad was one of the best cricket players in his school and my mom played volleyball. But those days are long gone, probably due to the fact that they spend all their time chasing after me. You'd think that'd be good exercise, but apparently not.

As a consequence of this, we've never gone on trips that would involve them doing any physical activity. Actually, this isn't fair in the slightest, since whenever we go sightseeing I tire way before they do. But we'll ignore that.

So this was my first time skiing. I've seen it on the Olympics before. Those people are pretty good. They fly down the slopes at breathtaking speeds, crouched over with poles tucked in so as to minimize air resistance.

That's the easy part. I bet none of them could get up if they ever happened to fall >_>

I knew I was in trouble from the moment I put the skis on. Well, I knew I was in trouble even before that, since I could barely put them on without assistance. As soon as my second boot locked, I regretted standing putting the skis on while standing on an upward slope. I slowly but surely began to slide downwards, and I had no idea how to stop. Yangbo insisted that I should "wedge," but I hadn't the faintest idea what that meant. Eventually I got it, and stopped my almost inevitable descent to the bottom of the slope.

Getting up said slope, however, was yet another challenge. As the group moved off to the lift, I was stuck behind, desperately waddling left and right, flailing my arms, the whole nine yards. It wasn't until I received the most excellent advice of digging the skis into the the snow that I was able to make any progress at all. Even with this extremely useful tip, walking up the slope was pretty difficult.

I thought my troubles were over once I made it to the lift, but apparently not. Who on earth designed the lift system? Could they have made it less beginner-friendly? I'm not entirely sure. Apparently we are not only expected to be able to move forward at will, but also in time to catch that horrendous moving park bench that is no doubt secretly trying to bowl you over. However, thanks to my natural talent and some minor help from the lift operators, I managed to escape my encounters with the lift alive.

There was one operator who learned to recognize my hat, most likely because it is emblazoned with the logo of the most successful franchise in the history of American sports. He was one of those who had to give me minor help, such as pulling me along. Yes, this is minor help. Don't worry about it. On my third or so time getting on the lift, I took off the cap to see if he would still recognize me. Apparently not. Such is the power of the Yankees, but I digress.

Clearly, getting on the lift was not challenging enough. The designers also had to make sure that getting off the lift was also an impossible task. The moving park bench sets you down nicely and gently. However, that is about all that is nice and gentle about the disembarking. It then roughly shoves you down a steep slope, forcing you to fight to keep your balance and avoid your park-bench-mates as you careen downwards. If, in the end you are lucky enough to have maintained your balance, you also have to stop before you hit the wall of snow that is mere feet away from the bottom of said treacherous downhill tilt.

Finally! I was at the top of the slope, ready to begin my epic descent. I cheerily waved goodbye to the snowboarders, who had already fallen. Haha! I laughed to myself. I totally made the right decision in choosing to ski instead of snowboard. I eased myself forward, and let gravity do the rest. Unfortunately, gravity is not very considerate of my personally imposed speed limits. Nor is it conscious of people in front of me. Heading straight for them, I employed the only method of stopping I could think of - I took a fall.

In terms of safety, probably an excellent idea. In terms of ... time saving? Worst idea ever. Getting up with skis on is virtually impossible, and do not let anyone tell you otherwise. I'm pretty sure it took me at least 5 minutes to get up the first time. After getting up, I promptly started sliding towards those same people, so I was forced to take yet another fall. Eventually I did succeed in getting up and redirecting myself. When I reached the bottom, I saw that I was the last person to get there. In fact, I bet some people had gone back up the ski lift and then down the slope yet again. There was certainly time for it.

Eventually I improved, which was sweet. It was still fun taking the falls, and trying to control myself. One of the more eventful trips down the slope was when I tried to show off my newfound skills to Eddie. Everything was going spectacularly, until I got to the bottom. Some snowboarder who actually knew what he was doing cut in front of me, doing his whole "carving" thing. I tried to turn out of the way, and to my great surprise, it worked! I veered off to the left. Unfortunately, either my common sense or my blind luck failed me, because I was unable to turn right. This is unfortunate because I was heading right into the trees.

Escaping the entire day relatively uninjured (much to the surprise of my dad, who had skiing adventures of his own. They were unsuccessful on a whole new level.) was a major accomplishment of mine. To be perfectly honest I was wondering how we could spend the entire day - some 6 hours - sliding down giant hills on large metal strips. At the end of the day, however, I was wondering where the time went.

New experiences frighten me. I am not a particularly outgoing or adventurous person. Good thing the unfamiliarity of the ski slopes was mitigated by the familiarity of old friends. It was a great time, regardless of how terrible I was at it.

But next time I'm definitely trying snowboarding. So I can get the beginner package again. And so Arvind can join me :P