127 Hot Shot Skier

Learning to ski on homemade skis did not make me the greatest skier in the world, but I became good enough to think that I could ski. However it was not with enough skill to ski with the hotshots on the mogul slope. As a matter of fact I usually had to start my day on the bunny hill with the beginners, as the frequency of my endeavors was so few and far between that I had to relearn each time I made the attempt.

It was with mixed feelings that I decided to go along on the annual Laurelwood ski trip. The closest ski hill was on Mt Hood at the Timberline Lodge. This was a majestic ski lodge on the lower slopes of the picturesque volcano and a great place to ski, if you could.

I did not have the necessary gear for the mountain, but skis and poles could be readily rented at the lodge and before I knew it I was on the slopes in the latest leather ski boots.

I don’t think Don Ringering was any better at skiing then I was so we both headed over to the bunny hill where all the nube’s in desperation come for a quick lesson on how to survive the slope. Don and I considered ourselves skiers, so forget the lessons, just a couple runs down the gentle slopes of the bunny hill and we would be ready to take off with the big boys.

After floundering around on the bunny hill for a couple of hours, Don finally says, “That’s enough of this, we’re ready, let’s do it.” And I said, “If you think so, why not?” So off we went to the ski lift where all of the hot shot skiers with their latest gear come strutting by, where cool is cool.

I really felt out of place as my gear consisted of dorky rental boots, a pair of regular pants tucked into my wool socks, a jacket that was far from being a ski jacket, some make-due leather gloves, a tuque and no goggles. The two of us were a matched pair and hoped not to be noticed as we climbed onto our chair and tried to assume the air of experience. But getting on the lift was far from cool.

The real challenge was now ahead, how was I to get off, cool was now the farthest thing from my mind, and at this point it was replaced by survival. My knuckles were white and I was breathing faster then normal with my heart racing. When suddenly it seemed as if the chair was speeding up, and I suddenly got a real slap in the butt; as in desperation I leaped clear. This sends me careening wildly out of control and into some skiers going by. Looking around I see that Don has made it much to my relief.

To gain more confidence we chose some easy slopes that required no slalom techniques. Our strategy was to head straight down the slope and run out of speed before we ran out of hill and into disaster. After whiling away most of the day doing this boredom run, even the chair lift had lots it’s challenge, I thought it now time to try some more advanced techniques, things we were watching the big boys do. I particularly thought it was so cool to watch how they could come whizzing to a stop in a blinding shower of snow.

At this point my confidence had risen to a potentially dangerous level, not only for me but also, for anyone within range. I was a latent disaster, as they say waiting to happen. I do not know where Don was on this crucial run; but I resolved to carry it our regardless.

I can still remember whizzing down the slope and at just the last moment when I reached the bottom trying to enact the procedure as I had seen the hot shots do. But that was not about to happen, not today. I hit the deck so fast that my head was spinning. My skis were both jammed in the snow so far that I couldn’t pull them out. The seat of my pants was ripped right out and I was in such a twisted heap that I couldn’t release my boots. To make things worse the pain was so excruciating, that I thought I had ripped my legs out of their sockets. So here I was lying in this twisted heap my skis stuck firmly in the snow and I couldn’t free my boots from the skis.

I don’t know if I was fortunate or not as there did not happen to be anyone nearby to see me, but it must have taken me ten minutes to free myself, and for the rest of the day I could hardly ski because of the pain.