Blue skies and sunny again today. A beautiful day but bitterly cold.
Red skies at night sailors delight.
We brought a down quilt to the den this morning to watch some Olympics. Good grief it was cold! I was under two blankets and the down quilt as I gripped my hot coffee and turned the games on.
We were watching the women’s mogul run and it made my knees ache just watching. E advises that moguls are “easy” when you are in your twenties. My experiences skiing were different from his.. He was a ski bum back in the days when they would ski til they would drop, and then sleep in the back of their cars at the Whistler City dump. (where downtown Whistler is now). An annual pass was 120.00.
My friend Mary convinced me that I wanted to learn to ski in Grade 7. We caught the bus behind Ivor Williams in Kerrisdale on Saturday mornings for the hour-long trip to the top of Grouse Mountain. The first Saturday, we were assigned to groups. Mary and I went to a beginners class taught by my friend Bills sister. She took us to the bunny hill and started us off down the mountain… three feet and I fell.. another three feet and I fell…. The class was on the Tbar going back up the hill while I proceeded three feet at a time to the bottom.. My teacher tried to get me to go up the TBar. Try as I might as soon as there was tension.. I fell…. It was so foggy on the mountain that day that I imagined in my mind the Swiss Alps in the James Bond movie we had seen on New Years. (Her Majesties Secret Service).. I had no idea the hill wasnt as steep as Marys driveway….
Four years later Mary organised a girls ski trip on semester break to Manning Park. I have no idea why she was always getting me into these situations.. I said I couldn’t go cause I didn’t have any skis.. She borrowed a pair for me from Susan… First day on the mountain we ran into a boy from my school who I had a huge crush on… All my high school friends who read this will know just who I mean…. I pretended I could ski and agreed to spend the afternoon skiing with him.. (what was I thinking?)… he set off down the run and I followed like I knew what I was doing…. and I went straight off a cliff and thumped to a halt at the base of a tree surrounded by broken skis.. Big surprise, he kept going and left me there…. I still remember a girl asking her Mom “why is that girl walking down the mountain?”
I hate skiing and I hate being cold and I am in complete awe of all these kids flying around Russian Mountains like
they are Gumby