Saturday, June 19, 2010


I was flat on my back looking at the crystal blue sky when the metal hook reached down for me! The very kind man with the hook arm was trying to help me get to my feet. Little did he know that this was only the second day of my entire life that I'd had snow skis strapped on my body!

The slope was located in beautiful Steamboat, CO. and our family had joined our soon-to-be daughter-in-laws family for a ski vacation. The setting was fabulous and the family fun was wonderful. My skiing skills were pathetic. It was day 2 of ski school, day 1 had not gone very well either. Honeybuns took out a fence about 30 min. into the beginners class. I'd already crashed on the bunny slope and a circle of a dozen 3 yr-olds and their instructor came to my rescue. That experience was humbling enough!

Never one to give up easily I'd jumped on the ski lift on day 2 with every intention of trying one more time to make it down that hill and be alive at the bottom. As my chair approached the top and it was time to "slide" off, I fell head over heels and ended up planted in the snow. Did you know that when someone falls off the ski lift the whole thing shuts down until that person is upright once again? Skilled athletes were patiently dangling in the wind as I laid flat on my back.

That wonderful gentleman that came to help me had such good intentions. I just couldn't get passed his artificial metal hook arm reaching down for me. I laid back in the snow and burst into hysterical laughter, with visions of me hanging like a piece of beef right off his arm. After what seemed like eternity a couple of other brave souls came along and pulled me out of that snowy death.

I believe that is the same day that I barged into that little brown hut located very near the slope and introduced myself to the Rescue Squad. I talked them into riding me down that hill on the rescue-with-a-red-cross-on-the-top snow mobile. Waving as I passed by my surprised family members gave me such a sense of relief. When I got to the bottom I ditched those excruciatingly painful boots, poles and skis with a vow to never attempt that sport again.

Some of us just aren't made to ski. I'm not sure how wise it is for anyone to attempt to slide down a hill that has an ambulance waiting at the bottom.

And this past spring I enjoyed watching my grandchildren whiz by me at incredible speeds as they made their way down the slopes at Durango, CO. They are fearless, made of rubber and have a NEED for speed.

Thinking about about snow skiing on a 99 degree summer day in OK is a good thing!

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