The fam went skiing yesterday at Cataloochee over in Maggie Valley. It was the girl’s second time and the boy’s first. Both kids participated in the pricy, yet somewhat loose ski school in the morning, then took a couple green runs with us, then circled the bunny slope 600 times. Those carpet lifts rock. Remember the rope tows of yore that used to rip the palms off your gloves while they jerked you off your skis? Sometimes, technology rocks.
Anyway, after skiing quite a bit in my late 20s and early 30s, I’ve only been on skis a few times in the past 10 years. I was a little shaky at first, but the body memory returned quickly. The sad part is that I had the oldest and longest skis on the mountain. Typically, there’s always some 60-something-year-old guy with ancient skis, looking all grizzled and old-fashioned. Yesterday that person was me. When I was a regular skiier, it was cool to have long skis. Long skis equated to skiing experience. Now, everyone has these short, flexible, swishy skis–even the really good skiers. It may be time to retire my 20-year-old K2s. Particularly since I noticed that the ski resort uses its old skis to make fences–and a pair just like mine were nailed up to the boards, keeping folks out of the woods. Damn.
Oh yeah, and I’m sore as hell today. I also got sunburned. I’m always so cautious about sun (melanoma survivor), but I totally forgot about the snow reflection quotient. I slather on sunscreen most mornings, but forgot yesterday in our rush to get out of the house.
Overall, the ski adventure was great fun. And there was decent snow for North Carolina after our “storm” this week. I’m off to swallow some ibuprofen!
