Ski Hill

Ski hill in my parents neighborhood

My mother always encouraged us to try different activities and having a ski association in our backyard gave Tammie and I the chance to learn how to ski. My first skis were bright orange and my boots were red. The boots were a lot of fun and I loved to walk around the house with them on and pretend that I was Herman Munster. When I look back, those first few moments with the red boots were probably the highlight of my downhill skiing career.

My first day on the "slopes" began at my elementary school and I had to cross this massive playground to find the small hill where my lessons were conducted. Tammie was a bit more advanced and I believe that she was already on the big hill from day one. If my memory serves me, there was just one other kid in my class, but he may have been Franz Klammer. From the start of my journey across the playground, I was about fifty yards behind the kid. By the time that I got to the small practice hill, my confidence was completely shattered and I don't recall ever getting it back. Who makes a kid on his first day of lessons go 200 yds on tiny orange skis? I have tried to block it out, but I think I must have fallen a dozen times on the way there. I would have been better off walking there in the massive Munster boots.

In the ensuing weeks, Tammie would be learning the snowplow, how to skate with skis and something called the stern-christy. If she were here, she would probably laugh and let us all know how much she hated skiing and the endless cold weather. All I know is that she was flying up the towrope lift and then skiing down, while I was being transferred from group to group, because I just couldn't get it. I remember there was this one time when I was instructed to ski down in a tuck position and I veered off to the right and knocked over the majority of another class. Heck, I even took out the instructor.

Last night, I was driving my mother home after visiting my dad in the hospital and I noticed that people were skiing on the ski hill again. Naturally, I thought of the fun times Tammie and I had flying down that hill and then drinking hot chocolate in the lodge afterwards. Even though I just cross-country ski these days, I can imagine myself climbing that hill one more time and racing down into some innocent bystanders.

Winter Wonderland