Ski-Mania

Well, we have returned safe and sound from our ski trip to Indiana. This was my first time skiing, and I must say I enjoyed it. I am the absolute master of the Bunny Slope. There is none above me (literally, they all passed me so fast that everyone is below me). I played the 'mom-of-the-trip' role, preparing meals, cleaning up, and shutting the door behind the youth. I was a little nervous about quantity of food, and it turns out I had just enough for everything. That was the problem. Not much extra. With teenage boys I now know to plan for double the amount of guys that will be there.


As much as I enjoyed skiing, it is not the experience I would like to document in detail. I am also going to make an attempt to practice some old school descriptive writing. This story will not be any good without adjectives and an accurate account of my adventure. So, sit back, enjoy, and hopefully get a laugh or two.


A Story of Survival at Paoli Peaks - by michellemitch



My adventure began early on a Saturday morning. You see, I had never snow skied before. Heck, I have never successfully water skied. W had some errands to take care of, so several of our youth took me under their wings. I began my not so graceful descent down the mountain only to make it about 3 feet before falling. The next 15 minutes I attempted to get up. Attempted. I have no idea what hold gravity had on me, but it was a pretty good grip. I was finally able to roll over and stand as Kathryne put her skis on top of mine to prevent further sliding. I practiced the "pizza" for an extended amount of time, only to find that this maneuver did indeed give me control of my speed and lower extremities. I continued down the slope, using the pizza every other second, until I reached the bottom. Then! The chairlift. Such an exciting and scary thing. I am proud to say that I sat down and enjoyed the ride, and when it came time to ski off of the lift, I did great. I even made the turn! So, the worst was behind me on the slopes. I continued the bunny slope for a while, completely successful, dashing in and out of the crowds (ok, maybe not so much) but I had it under control. I then try the beginner slopes, and decide the bunny is for me... for the time being. Whitney then joins me, and we ski the bunny together, ride the chairlift together, and have a great husband-wife-bunny-slope-experience. He gave me pointers along the way and helped better my experience simply with his presence.

So... it's getting close to lunch time and I'm ready to go check on T-Pup and eat some cheddar-broccoli soup. I tell W this, and he agrees to ski down to our cabin, get my vehicle, drive back to the lodge, and let me go back (obviously skiing to the cabin is not an option for me). So, I ski the bunny for a little while longer, thinking he should be back by now. I then proceed to go into the lodge, turn my skis and boots in... but wait. Where are my shoes? Rachel put them in the locker with her and Kathryne's shoes. So, I call. It is said they are in locker 599. I search high and low, and to my dismay, cannot find locker 599.

I'm afraid W is waiting in the car for me outside, so I decide to walk in my wool socks to the parking lot. Well, when people come in and out of the lodge, the snow off of their skis melts. So, the ground is wet. And it is 15 degrees outside. I charge into the wilderness at any rate, searching for W. I don't see him anywhere, so I think maybe he has left my vehicle in the parking lot with the keys in the console. My feet are throbbing only 3 minutes into this. I'm scared of frostbite. I'm scared of what people are thinking about this poor girl searching for her vehicle in this 24 acre parking lot in wet sock feet in 15 degree weather. I make it down the hill and still do not see my explorer, when low and behold, I see the church bus. I went and took a break from my hiking by sitting on the back of the bus for a few minutes, and said a pretty desperate prayer asking for guidance, direction, and my husband.

I then start to search again for my vehicle, but my feet hurt so bad from the gravel and cold that I can't walk anymore. I then decide it will be easier to walk if I put my feet in my gloves and walk in them. But, my feet wouldn't fit all the way in so I am tip-toeing through the parking lot. At this point, I almost rejoice because I see grass. I make my way through the rows of cars to begin my trek on some easier terrain.

Needless to say, my car was parked at the absolute end of the parking lot. I thanked God for my number pad on the side and pushed in the code. I then got inside of my car, prayed, and turned around to see what all was in the car. Seriously, God is so good. This sounds crazy I know, but on the back seat was a clean, dry pair of socks! I took my frozen socks off, replaced them with the dry ones, and wrapped a hand towel around my feet while trying to regain feeling in my toes. I then noticed a two-day old mocha frappachino (the bottled kind) and I considered my options... and remembered the temperature had not exceeded 25 degrees in the past two days. I gulped it down slowly, to insure I savored every moment of it. I then noticed a container I had packed for T-Pup of bug bite cookies, and quickly devoured them. I then make a few calls, to make sure people knew where I was in case they spoke with W. I then took about a 30 minute nap, still in my ski bibs and jacket, when my phone rings. I don't recognize the number so I get a little discouraged, but when I answer - voila! It was the voice I was longing to hear. My sweet husband.

He thought I would wait for him on the slopes.

I thought he would pick me up.

Needless to say, I survived in the parking lot of Paoli Peaks.