Taking The Upper Snowbird at the End of the Evening in North Carolina

About Me

The Fun Side

Once every 10 years I get to go skiing!

If you ski in NC you should be well aware, as am I, that at the end of the day most slopes receiving a good bit of use become very icy. All the blown snow has been worn off. A wise person will stick to the bunny slopes. However, if you ski infrequently getting the biggest bang for your buck makes it hard to wind down. One thing that will make you stop.....is hurting yourself.

We had arrived early and suited up. The weather was cloudy and the air cold, but no rain and the snow was dry, so our outer wear was more than adequate to keep us comfortable. The lines at the lifts moved quickly and the skiing was smooth. We rode all the slopes and trails including the Omigosh black diamond. Eventually the regular skiers began to thin, including my ski buddy, and the sky grew dark.

It's now late in the day and the weather is still beautiful for skiing. I hit the slope. This may be my last run, it may not. I can't resist the Upper Snowbird and have boarded the lift taking a leisurely ride to the top. My cheeks are pink from the cold crisp air and the skiers below become fewer and fewer as my elevation increases. The regulars and wise one's have turned in and are shaking the snow out of their boots. Eventually the lift reaches its destination and I push off propelling myself to the right toward my trail of choice. Looking things over. The slope doesn't appear any more challenging than when I'd taken it previously. And, please don't interpret that as meaning it's not a challenge. The head of the trail tips you over its edge at what feels like lightning speed, then you have to make a sharp left. I'd already been down the run numerous times during the day, so I didn't spend much time taking in the view before 'tipping' over the edge. Notably and immediately, I find I can no longer remain on top of my skis. I hadn't gone 20 feet before a mild form of panic set in. But, I'm not so proud as to insist I must actually ski down a hill. I do, however, prefer keeping my skis on. So, for 200 feet I Christie to the left and to the right on my bum. While not elegant, sliding down using ski pants as a base, number one, kept my speed down and two, helped me avoid becoming a portion of a tree-human composite, which at the time seemed like a very real possibility. Remember, I am committed at this point. I can't climb back up the hill and walking down has simply never been a thought.

Every now and then I try to right myself, but each time my skis take off from under me in a direction I can't control. So, back down on my bum I go. Eventually, halfway down I see the 'blue circle' run. The end is near. I'll be merging with the main slope soon. I pull myself off my bum and tuck. My speed increases to a terrifying level, but no turns are required and I am able to ride the hill to its base. Christie-ing to the right I attempt to throw myself up the hill in an effort to reduce my speed, but my downward trajectory nor speed is altered. While the angle of the slope is notably less vertical, it is still a sheet of ice. Panic takes hold as I find, or more aptly, remember, a mogul has been placed dead center with a sign on it to remind skiers to slow down as they merge, and I'm heading directly toward it in a sideways skid. How do I handle this?!

Too late, no time for additional thought…I cream the sign, flying into the air over the mogul, and land on my back. I'll admit. When I hit the mogul, I didn't even TRY to right myself and land properly. I'd just given up.

After allowing my lungs to recover from collapse, I laid quietly, one foot still in a ski cocked outward nearly up to my shoulder, mentally examining my body for obvious signs of pain. I was quite tickled to find nothing had been broken and that I could now confirm my bones are still strong. There will be no bone density testing in my future this coming year. I remained comfortably motionless until a concerned skier stopped to ask if I was okay. With my affirmation he moved on.

This was decidedly the last run of my day.