Skiing Story II

(If you haven’t read part I, you should probably scroll one post down and read it first. Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

So like I was saying.

The skiing story from hell didn’t stop after that near-death experience.

The awesome designers of the slopes decided that they would make just one ski lift for 3 hills. Here is a visual to aid in the story:




So basically, we ride the chair lift back up to the top of the hill. Sarah (My sister) instructs me to go toward the right, so that we can go down an easier slope.

She, being the gracious and loving sister that she is (read: murderer that she is), allowed me to go first again. How kind.

So I veer to the right. I am all proud that I have cut across the mountain.

I am zigzagging all down the slope.

WEEEEE!!!

Oh $@!!$#!@!!!!!

I realize that I didn’t cut across the mountain far enough. As you can see from the picture above, hill two intersects back with hill one.

And then, I am filled with dread. I am headed back toward the black diamond.

My sister is behind me and notices my mistake. But I guess I can’t call her a total murderer, because she did follow me down the black diamond as well to make sure I didn’t break all ankles, knees, ribs, elbows, and shoulders of my body.

Soon, I am speeding just as fast as I was the last time!!!!

Holy crap!

The frantic praying begins again: JESUS! SAVE ME! OH MY GOODNESS! I CAN’T STOP! IIII CAAANNNTTTT STOOOOOPPPPP! I’M GOING TO BREAK MY LEGS! AHHHHHH!!! GOD PLEASE HELP ME! DO YOU HEAR ME? HELP ME! PPPPLLLEEEEASSEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Praise the Lord that He heard me. This time? I didn’t even crash at the bottom! Woo hoo!!!!!!

Sarah reaches me and in the midst of tears from laughing so hard says: “Why didn’t you go to the right?????”

I stare at her incredulously.

“I DID go RIGHT. You didn’t tell me HOW far right to go!”

So? You guessed it.

Up the frickin ski lift again.

This time? I am ADAMANT I am going to go all the way right to hill #3.

So, down we go again.

And I make it all the way right, alright.

All the way right, straight into a HUGE flow of ski traffic! I was screaming: “Get out of the way! I can’t stop! I’m coming right toward you!”

Expert 4-year old skiers look back with fear and panic as a huge white marshmallow flies toward them. Stupid expert 4 year old skiers.

Then? BAM! I crash into a HUGE, MONSTROUS mogul.

My skiis go flying and one of them smacks me straight on the forehead.

Simultaneously I hear a group of 10 guys yell “OOOWWWHHAAAHHHHHHH! That musta hurt! IS she OK? Hahahahahah!!!!!!!”

One of them was nice enough to come pick me and my disintegrated pride off the ground.

Here comes Sarah again, laughing her face off. Thanks Sarah, you’re a real help.

She tried to console me by telling me a story about her friend who went racing down a hill so fast she crashed into a tree. She had braces at the time and had to pick tree bark out of her braces for the next 2 days.

Well, I guess that made me feel a little better.

Not much. She still tried to kill me on 3 different occasions.

So maybe I don’t long that much for snow. Maybe summer can stay a little longer. Even if it is hot as crap outside.

Because people? I can NOT have another humiliating experience like that on the slopes again.

Skiing Story Part I

It is summer.

Yesterday? It was 95 degrees. The day before that? It was 100 degrees.

And I live in the Midwest, people. Where the humidity is so thick you walk outside and immediately have a mist covering your skin. AWESOME. LOVE IT.

All this heat has me looonnnggginnngggg for some cooler weather. I think some nice crisp snow would be nice right now….

Speaking of snow, I remember this one time, my sister Sarah and I went skiing in Michigan.

This was my first trip skiing outside of the great hills of Ohio, where I grew up (I know! You must be thinking: “MAN! I Have GOT to make it to Ohio to go skiing….I’ve heard they have some great slopes.”)

Needless to say, going to Michigan was going to be my first ‘real’ skiing experience on real hills in real snow.

SO, we went skiing. Now, I had forgotten at the time that my sister was part of a ski club in high school. So basically, every week during the winter, she would learn how to become some expert skier.

I? Was not part of that club. Before my Michigan skiing experience, I had been skiing a grand total of 5x. On those amazing Ohio slopes with fake snow.

We arrive at the resort, and we get warmed up for about 2 hours by going down some pretty easy slopes, having a great time. I had to remind myself how to ski. My sister? Did not.

However, after about 2 hours of this, we got bored. We wanted to try something more exciting.

My awesome sister suggested we go down the black diamond. For all of you people who have never been skiing? Black diamonds are generally the hardest to ski. They force you to zig zag across a mountain while avoiding trees on an extremely steep slope and just for fun? They throw in a few moguls (large purposefully-placed-there bumps on the slope).

YAY, right?

I am a moron.

I agree to go down the black diamond with my sister. Why? Because I am competitive. And if she is doing it? So am I.

So we get on the ski lift. On the way up, I am thinking: “WOW! This is a lot higher off the ground than I thought!” Do I say anything? Nope. I just keep on riding the lift.

We get to the top, and I then lose my balls. I start to freak out and tell Sarah that I cannot go down this mountain. I am going to die.

But the funny thing about skiing is that once you’re up there? There’s no way down. Why? Because that amazing ski lift doesn’t have a place at the top of the mountain to get back on. Only to get off.

C. R. A. P.

So now, I have to give myself a good kick in the rear. We start to near the edge, but because we are so high up, the wind is blowing furiously. We take a peek down and it is a straight drop off. No time to get used to being on the hill. You just drop straight down.

We both start to lose it (like are cracking up so hard because we both realize this is harder than anything either of us has ever done). But there’s no turning back now.

We scoot up close to the edge, and then WHAM! We both get shoved over, going extremely quickly!

Remember that strong wind I was telling you about? Yea….It sooo pushed us right off the edge and down that hill.

I am ahead of my sister, and at first, I’m doing great. I am focusing. I am zig zagging. I think to myself: “I can do this! Concentrate, Elizabeth.”

But then? As you can well imagine, the speed starts to pick up. I start going faster and faster, and no longer can I zig zag. I am now FLYING down the mountain so quickly that if I turn my skiis, I am afraid I am going to break my legs.

So what do I do? Start praying ferociously.

JESUS! YOU HAVE TO SAVE ME! AHHHHHHHH!!!! JESUS ! JESUS! JESUS! OH CRAP OH CRAP OH CRAP! AHHHHHHHHHH! I JUST WENT FLYING OVER A MOGUL! I JUST WENT FLLLYYYINNNGGGGG!!!! JESUS! JESUS! JESUS! PLEASE SAVE ME! OH MY GOODNESS! HELPPPPPP!!!!! JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS JESUS!!

I couldn’t even pray anymore. I just started calling his name! I wanted to close my eyes, but knew if I did? I was going to crash into a tree.

Oh Lord, help me.

Meanwhile, my sister sees me flying down the mountain behind me….she is cracking up, all the while trying to focus on skiing so that she doesn’t die too.

Finally, we both get to the bottom of the hill. I did not die, but I did come crashing to the ground as soon as I was down there.

I look at my sister with a horrified face, and she just continues to crack up.

Great….

Thanks for the support, Sarah.

But guess what people? This skiing story from hell isn’t over yet.

However, you didn’t think you were going to get the rest of the story out of me THAT easy, did you?

Tune in tomorrow for part II of this crazy story. I promise, it is worth it.