Ski memories - good and bad, old and new

[w.ski]

Hi All,
I'd love to hear stories of those ski memories that stick in your mind, wonderful ones that you never want to forget, or the terrible that you wish you could forget; things that happened yesterday or memories from long ago. I'll start with one from the late 50's, early 60's.

When I was a kid, my father bought an old Pepperidge Farm truck. He painted it baby blue and built two sets of bunk beds in back. He also installed a stove (don't remember what kind of fuel it burned) that had a smoke stack that went through the roof of the truck. Anyway my parents, my two older brothers, me, and friends would pile into the truck and trundle off to various ski areas in the Berkshires. At around noon we would all meet back at the truck and my mother would cook us all hamburgers for lunch on the truck stove. I can remember people knocking on the door wanting to buy burgers. I guess they thought we had set up a burger stand.:D

 

[Robyn]

That's a great memory!

I guess one of my oldies is when my dad finally made it to one of my races as a child. He was the head coach of the team which meant he was usually focused on the older kids and going to their races which were usually at different areas than the younger kids so he couldn't be at mine. I remember being so proud to go get my medal in front of my Papa (dad) after a race in McCall Idaho. I've got great pics of us together after that races as well.

A more current favorite was last season. I had 14 5 and 6 year olds on my team that I shared with another coach and we always had at least 2 parent helpers. Part of our goals with these guys was that every Saturday we would challenge them to do something new. This week we took them down into some pretty steep trees. At a point in the trail it was so steep that we were side slipping down and the trail was narrow enough that my skis didn't fit that way. I was mid group and the 4 or 5 kids behind me freaked out and the tears started. With the help of the parents we got them across to a less steep area, popped their skis off and had them butt slide down that area and then skied out from there. It was tough but they made it and not only were we proud of them but they were incredibly proud of themselves.

 

[Sheena]

Great stuff so far!

One of my favorite memories is probobly from my 2 or 3rd season skiing, I was about 11 and my older sister was about 14. My sister and I would ski together and loved exploring in the trees, and going over any little jump we could find. One afternoon, we met up with our mom and decided to show her some of our fun new "trails". The last thing my mom remembers is my sister telling her "trust me, mom". She was cursing us the whole was through the treed area. :yell: She still tells the story at family gatherings to this day. The following season, one of us got a t-shirt with two polar bears on the top of a ski slope which is rated a double diamond, one bear is pushing the other and saying trust me.

 

[NannyMin]

My family still gets some chuckles out something that happened when I was 14 years old. I went skiing for the first time and took a group lesson. Unfortunately, I failed it! The instructor told me I needed to repeat the class before continuing. So, when my sister Nicci came to pick me up after the lesson I was humiliated. She being the good sister that she was wanted to make me feel better and told me she would teach me. I trusted her, so I agree and we go to get on the lift (my first time) and I manage to get myself on with no drama. The problem was that, evidently I had never watched anyone get off the lift. I *assumed* that you were supposed to jump off. I was so wrapped up in my fear and watching for a good (not quite so high!) spot to jump, that I didn't even notice that everyone else was just sitting and NOT jumping. So, I finally spotted what I deemed a spot where I might actually live if I jumped, and I got my poles ready, scooted towards the edge of the seat and posed myself to jump. Luckily, my sis noticed my odd behavior and was able to convince me that we simply skied off. I don't think I've ever felt so relieved in my life! My family will never let me live it down though!

 

[Kano]

I remember probably our second season on skis, maybe the third?, we were up at Bogus. It was a snowy day -- the fresh stuff, big, fluffy flakes, floating down from the sky. I had been skiing on my own for a while, and decided I should like to wander back to the "back side" where the rest of the family was skiing, to join them on their way 'round to the front side again.

On my way down the cat track (I really liked cat tracks back then, cuz I could just slowly tootle along, just the right pace...) I thought I heard THUNDER.

The snow was falling harder and harder.

I got to the lift, and they closed it!

I radioed my husband, who had gotten off at the top of the lift, where the ski patrol was telling everyone to get on over to the front side. He had sent the kids ahead, and was waiting for me to arrive. I told him they'd closed the lift, and I must stay in the basin for a bit, until the storm passed.

It was maybe a half hour, and a lot of snow fell on us while we hung out back there -- there was a small sort of shelter, and there was the little restaurant/bar, with its deck. Almost a party back there, y'know?

When the lift opened again, I rode up, and it was pretty near white out conditions up there. When I got to the turn, where I should go around to the front side of the mountain, I realized that there was NO way I could get down that way. Plenty of ski patrol was there, and so I explained that I'm a green, sometimes easy blue skiier, and it didn't look safe to go back to the front the way I knew I could manage. The only other way 'round was to go down a black run, to a cat track that went to the upper lodge. Could someone help me down this slope that I knew I wasn't ready for?

Eventually, we got to the next cat track, and were below the clouds. The lovely woman who guided me went on her way, and I made my way back to known territory, jazzed about having made it down a black diamond run!

Found the family: They had been enjoying the front side, but had determined that I was traumatized by being stranded, and must be taken home now....

I was disappointed, hadn't done half my skiing, but I'll always remember enjoying my time on the backside of the mountain, waiting out the storm, and then bravely tackling the evil black diamond run, appropriately named "Triumph."

That run is still pretty scary for me, but I like to go down it every now and then anyway, but when the weather is MUCH nicer than that day!

Kano