I Just Don't Get It...No Really...I'm done!

Dear Boo and Bubble,

I awoke the next morning in Leysin with renewed confidence and hope that THIS would be the triumphant day in my life-long battle with skis.  Captain and I took the lift up to the first platform which designated the Swiss equivalent of a “bunny” slope.  Having already made the decision that I needed to practice on my own for a while, I got off there and told Captain to head further on up the mountain.  I’d catch up with him later.

So, there I stood……in the Alps, on the precipice of a beautifully groomed slope maybe 500 yards long with an incline, oh, I’d say of at least 55 degrees…..me and what seemed to be a thousand two-year olds whizzing down the hill like banshees. 

“Come on, Beth.  This is ridiculous.  If they can do it, so can you.  It’s all in your head.  Just forget about it.  Just go.  All you have to do is…….keep your weight on your downhill ski.”

And so, I pushed off, thinking that if I just believed hard enough and abandoned all caution, I could ski.  Sort of like believing that you can make it over a 50-foot waterfall in a kayak if you just hold your nose.

I picked up speed.  Faster, faster, faster I went.  It’s not easy to discern which is your downhill ski when you’re headed straight downhill.  I arbitrarily picked my right ski and pressed on it which threw me severely to the left.  Faster, faster…..somehow, I dodged the little banshee munchkins who flew by me like gnats.  I began to snowplow, but the slope was so firmly packed, the maneuver had no affect on my rapid race sideways. 

Finally I just lay down on my back, knees bent, back of my head bouncing in the snow.  I passed under a yellow rope.  Now, boys, it is NEVER a good thing to pass under a rope on a ski slope.  It is there for a reason…a reason that has a constancy to it….like a “Do Not Enter” that is universally understood in all of skidom.   

But there I went, flying under the rope like a wayward torpedo, hoping it wasn’t marking a cliff.  I finally came to a graceless stop….right in the middle of the Swiss National Snowboarding Competition slalom course.  Along with moguls and ramps, the contenders now had me as an obstacle. 

Fortunately, no one was coming down the course.  Your future would be in significant doubt if they had been.  I somehow righted myself enough to eject my boots from the skis and grabbed them up from the snow.  I made my way back to the rope and crossed back underneath onto the bunny slope.  I trudged up the hill, grappling with skis and poles until I made it to the lift station where I squatted down in the snow waiting for Captain.

That was the last time I ever had those death sticks known as skis on my feet.  Thank goodness, I can now claim to be “too old” to try again.  Don’t worry….I’ll be excited to watch the two of you.  I’m sure you’ll be great at it, but honestly for me….I just don’t get it.