I would have called this post “Skiing” but that was already taken, so I called it “Going downhill really fast.”
We went skiing again on Friday at the big M. When we got there, they were making snow. I wanted to buy some goggles as my goggle/sunglasses had got cracked last time. I went into the general store and they were charging $40 for them. I left, a bit disgusted. As I was walking down to the slope, I asked a guy how much goggles were normally. He said $40 was about right. He then asked me if I wanted to buy some. I said yes. He said that he had an extra pair that he wanted to sell. He had bought it for $40 in the general store. He offered them to me for $30-35. I offered $20. He snapped it up. Later I was very glad for them.
On one trip up the lift I rode with a lady from Hungary who lives in the U.S. I told her I had been to Western Europe but not Eastern Europe. She was a bit steamed about the Europeans traveling and a lot of Americans not leaving their state. I was not a target of her wrath as I listed some of the countries I have been in. (Canada, Mexico, Costa Rica, El Salvador, England, The Netherlands, Germany, France, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, Austria, Israel, Egypt) She said that she has a bunch of friends on the local rescue squad. They have had more injuries from people tubing than from skiing/boarding. She said most of the injuries by skiiers/boarders were by people that like to go straight down. *guilty grin*
Glen and I rode Rebel’s Yell a coupla times. Then we decided to go over to the Black Diamonds. He wanted my old cracked goggles, tho. When I got the new pair of goggles, I left my old cracked ones sitting on a windowsill. So he went all the way to the bottom to get them, while I took Mass Transit so I could get the cross trail to get to the Black Diamond lift. They were blowing snow on Mass Transit. Like majorly. I couldn’t see 7 feet in front of me. As I went down, the outside of my goggles became coated with a solid sheet of ice. That made so that I failed to see a fresh drift of snow that a snowmaking machine had been depositing for the last coupla hours. My ski tips plowed into it and I went cartwheeling down the slope. I was so covered with snow. I wearily trudged back up and retrieved my other ski and kept on going. Needless to say, I didn’t ski that slope again. As Glen and I ascended the Black Diamond lift my feet were freezing and numb. Later I made the very amazing scientific discovery that if I loosened my boots slightly, blood would come back in with a rush! My feet were un-numb and room temp! Ahh the luxury! I felt so good! I would tighten them back up to the max tho, as soon as I neared the top. Uncle Tony’s boss Brian is a sick skiier. He’s been dropped off in the Alps by helicoptor and skiied all the way down. He can do multiple flips in the air. He is also so dedicated to getting the ultimate performance and control, that he used to not wear socks. His feet would be bleeding by the time he got to the bottom. I am not that dedicated. I skiied Diamond Jim the rest of the evening, except one run down Paradise. I fell only about 4 times, but each of those falls was most violent due to the precipitous speeds I was traveling. I have been extremely sore the last couple of days.
As I was going up the Black Diamond lift, I saw a girl traveling at an extremely rapid rate of speed down Diamond Jim. She looked like she was quite skilled as she rocked her hips back and forth expertly. At the bottom of each slope there is a sign. That sign is formed of a PVC pipe frame:
I stole the above pic from this guy.
With, you guessed it, SLOW written in big black letters on its orange fabric. As a final flourish, she decided to cut as close to the SLOW sign as she could. She got as close as she could. As a matter of fact she got as close as physics would allow. Matter of fact she couldn’t have got closer if she was touching it. Which, for all of you brilliant people out there who have taken Logic 101 at university, means that she did touch it. She touched it very hard. As a matter of fact, the only reason that I’m using the word touch at all is because that stupid little cliche phrase “she couldn’t have got closer if she was touching it” came up. It would be most misleading if I told you she merely touched it. It totally took her out as she totally *whack!* collided with it. Actually, to be anatomically correct, her shins collided with it. I was up on the ski lift (in case you don’t remember; it was a long time ago that I said that) and I heard her grunt all the way up there. *Unghhh!* Like I also said earlier, it totally took her out. It was like she was clotheslined, except clotheslined on the bottom (which isn’t really clotheslined at all). She did a total flip through the air. And then another law of physics: gravity. She landed *Kersplat!* She had been going pretty fast, so I think I should make that sound effect: *KERSPLAT!* Then I heard her second grunt: *Ooomph!* as she landed. There a lot of things that I would have given for my camera with video clip taking ability. She jerked the sign out in the proccess. She got up, primly adjusted her pink stocking cap and went away as fast as she could. She didn’t put the sign back or anything. Women drivers… I am proud to say that all night *nobody* (including ski patrol) ever passed me*.
On the way home we stopped at Burger King for supper. All the crazy people in our group who board were predictably complaining about predictable areas of their bodies being sore. (Let me give you a hint: Think South) Andrew, a guy that works with Tony, got out of his car with his zip-off pants on. He had zipped off the bottom half. He had long johns underneath. It was hilarious looking. I was kicking myself for not taking a picture with my camera phone. For extra style points he started dancing in the parking lot. When we got in, he got even more style points by singing loudly in falsetto along with the music. The place was packed with kids. Benji started singing along with Surfing Safari when it started playing. We all cringed. Andrew enthusiastically took it as a ringing vindication of his singing. It was twofold: 1. Someone else was singing too. 2. Andrew’s singing sounded professional next to Benji.
That ending to the post was kinda abrupt with no wind-down. My teacher (hah! bah, humbug!) always taught me a strong ending is essential. Well at least what I’m doing now is an ending. I don’t know if it is strong though… [this is the spot where I resisted putting in a stupid joke]
* Unless I was fallen
I feel so special being on somebody’s blog roll. This is the first blog roll that I have ever been put on… *sniff, sniff* *decides to end post before he gets too emotional*
%20with%20the%20tsunami.jpg)
