Ski Trip

About thirty years ago I had watched the Winter Olympic's and decided skiing looked like fun. The opportuntiy came about, to go to Gatlinburg on a ski trip. Even though I had never skied, how hard could it be. I got in line to rent my skis with a troop of Boy Scouts. If these 12yr. old boys could ski, how hard could it be. I picked out a pair of boots that fit, and they picked out the skis to match my height and weight. I rented them for the day, and paid them 2 dollars for insurance. Just outside I met a young man about my age, who said he was from Vermont. He said he had taught skiing, and would be glad to show me. We got on the chairlift, and I could hear the man with the Swiss accent say on the loud speaker, conditions were fine. The next opportunity to get off was the expert slope. On the way up, I was told to snow plow by turning my skis in, this would slow me down. We arrived at the top of the mountain, I jumped from the chair and immediately fell down. The people who followed knew I was a expert,when they had to manover to get off the chairlift. About the time I stood up, the guy from Vermont said, do it like this. That was the last I saw of him. I pointed my skis downward and started going fast immediately. Then I thought of what he told me SNOW PLOW. It had rained the night before, and then dropped to 20 degrees. There was only ice, and snow plowing only increased speed. I tried sticking the aluminum poles in the ice, but they just bent and folded. I only knew how to go straight and I was still gaining speed. My last resort was to lean back hit my butt and slide. The ice was like pavement, the new ski suit I purchased for this trip was wearing through fast. A couple hundred yards later I finally came to a stop. I had lost my tobagan, I saw it up the mountain, but I was not about to craul up and get it. Thankfully the skis were attached to my boots with cables. After much effort I was back up to repeat the controlled crash. Other skiers went across back and forth, all I could do was holler watch out. After numerous crashes the slope was not as steep, I was feeling good. Then their was a series of three jumps. The first surprised me, but I landed on my skis. Just below the third jump was a line of people, waiting to board the chairlift. I had to crash again, thank goodness I was close to the ski rental. The insurance was the best 2 dollars I ever spent. Their was only one buckle left on each boot, the poles were bent, and the skis looked like they were bushogged. The ride down the mountain with 50 skiers on the TRAM was quiet, until someone spotted the butt ground out of my ski suit to the meat. After a roar of laughter, I told them, the next time I wanted to have this much fun I would just jump off the motel balcony.

HEAD NUT