Lol. I like these stories. I've had several DUMB moments.
1- Deepest pow day I've ever seen, was skiing with two guys at Mt. Hood Meadows. It was boot/knee deep on the groomers and knee deep+ off piste. I was skiing on my tiny 150cm Salomon Verse (70something waist anyone?) and I'd never skiied anything that deep before, on those skis, dumb idea, yes.
My wonderful friends, 19 year old Alaskan boys
decided, at 4pm, when the lifts were closing, that we were going to take a different route to the car. Through the bottom of "Heather Canyon" (for those of you who haven't skiied there, experts only, gates that say you're required to have a buddy, pack, shovel, etc.... Some of the most sought after in-bounds "backcountry" skiing in the PNW.
) It was all good for a few minutes past the gate, there was a pretty clear trail through the trees (still some of the tightest glades I've skiied) and I managed to keep my speed under control.
Then... the boys disappeared. I figured, hey, just keep going down! Turns were getting easier, I was getting the hang of it! Then I hit an interesting spot. There was a chute, about 15' wide, and a tree in the middle of it. AKA, two chutes, about 6 ft wide, and quite steep. I stood at the top for a moment, trying to pick one, and decided to go left. I was almost past the tree, when my pole got stuck in the snow, and flew out of my hand, over into the other chute. LOL. Gone gone gone. I skied to the bottom, and looked back up the hill, and there was my pole, 20ft above my head. I tried to step up sideways, no luck. So I figured, ok, I'll just take off my skis, and hike up and get it!
Took off the uphill ski, and (I'm sitting here laughing, haha.) sank into the snow, up to my hip. Whoops. I heard the guys yelling, and managed to communicate my situation. After some more yelling, I decided to ditch the other pole, and attempt to get my skis back on. I ended up taking them both off and sliding down on my butt, to a spot with heavier snow. Got the skis back on, and started making VERY long turns down through the snow. (Thigh deep at my speed, yeaah!!) I fell quite a bit, and there were definitely tears. I made it down to the bottom of the valley that we were in, to the single track that lead back to the groomed cat-track to the parking lot. It was extremely flat, and I came to a dead stop. Skis sank into the snow, and I fell on my side. Sat there bawling for a while, trying to figure out where the boys were, and how the hell I was going to get myself out of that mess. I was so stuck, that I was positive that ski patrol was going to come in for me. After 10 ish minutes of sitting trying to make sense of the situation, I managed to pack down enough snow to push myself up, and slowly ski down. The boys? They were just around the corner, being boys. One of them had taken off his skis and jumped into a snow bank, and they were busy taking pictures of him, up to his neck in the snow. I skiied up, still crying, and proceeded to find out that where I had fallen over, was literally only a foot or two from where the creek banks dropped off 12'. Wow. Needless to say, I made it out alive, but WOWWWW.
2- Doesn't really compare to the first story. But I had another situation this year, where I got one ski stuck, and pre-released. Had to slide down to harder pack, to get it back on, and ended up hitting a sheet of ice, and going into an un-controllable Warren Miller picturesque yardsale crash. I flew downhill about 50 yards, skis and poles scattered between where I started and where I was. Thank God for helmets. I ended up stopping
just uphill from a lift tower. Wooh. The funny part? I actually thought while I was mid-crash 'this should totally be a Warren Miller crash scene." LOL.
I've done many other stupid things on skis, but these were the two that take the cake. Sorry the first one was so long.
I might have told it on here before, oh well.