Skies Don't Work on Pavement, I Would Know

From Crested Butte

I didn't have any drink to spill on myself so I decided to get road rash instead.

Each day we walked up the street to this cut out in the snow and skied down “homeowner” to the Gold Link Lift. It was as ski in/ski out as you can get in my book. When we were done for the day we skied down “homeowner”, found the UT flag David had put out marking our exit and skied right up to the street. Every day except yesterday it was perfect, I skied to the cut out in the snow, angled my skies down and slid onto the snow covered street and skied down to the house and practically into the garage. It was so fun I could hardly contain my excitement. I had never been to a place where you skied right up to your front door!

Yesterday however was not like the other days. It was warmer and most of the snow had melted off the street. So as I came around the curve and up to the cut out in the snow, I noticed it was a steep drop, the snow plows had pushed the snow from the street to the edges so there was a steep drop off, then the street which was bare of snow. I poked my skies out over the built up snow edge right before the street and thought to myself, “How can I ski down to the house so I don’t have to walk?” Then it comes to me, I decided I would just ease my skies down the snow, make a sharp right onto the side of the road where there was still snow and ski down to the garage. It was a perfect plan.

So I went for it; I lean my skies down and slide off the edge, but before I can turn right I slid directly onto the street and my skies come to a sharp halt. My upper body keeps moving forward and since my legs are frozen to the ground because skies don’t actually work on pavement, I proceeded to fly forward. I caught myself with my hands just before my face got cozy with the street. So here is the visual, my legs are sprawled out, I am laying face down on the pavement and my arms out I like just scored a soccer goal. My poles are wrapped around my wrists so they are pointing outward, one ski had popped off and the other was attached and at a 90 degree angle to my leg. Karen, my friend I was, with wanted to laugh but was worried I had done some serious damage to my face. “Are you ok,” she asks. As I pushed myself up with my hands I shout back, “yea, I’m fine.” I pick myself back up, get my skies on and make my way down the street, on the snowy part. I look back at Karen who, after seeing me face plant it on the street, has decided to take her skies off and walk. I am laughing hysterically at myself and yell back at Karen, “I’m glad you didn’t have the camera out!”

Ultimate Skiing

SmartWool Light Skiing Sock - Women's

Fourstar Clothing Co Filbert Full-Zip Hooded Jacket - Men's

I Need to Ski More Often

From Crested Butte

Crested Butte

Before this vacation, I think the last time I skied was about 3 years ago in Tahoe and before that I think it had been 3 or 4 years. No one can be a great skier skiing once every 3 years, or at least I can’t. I did manage to make it down the mountain on the first pass without falling although I certainly feel many times after that run down the mountain. Falling didn’t deter me; I skied all 4 days and loved every minute of it, even the falls.

I stuck mostly to blue runs with a few greens; I didn’t want to break anything before I embark on yoga teacher training. Breaking something would be devastating to my new life goals so I decided easy and fun would be better than trying to “out do” my last ski experience, which again, was over 3 years ago. (No need to be a show-off.)

I got some great ski tips on Thursday and practiced actually using my poles instead of holding onto them like they were simply an accessory. I also learned to make smaller “s” curves and to keep my knees together. Both techniques made my thighs and quads hurt so I was glad I had received those tips late in the trip!

On my way back to the airport in Gunnison, I started thinking about the last 5 days in Crested Butte; I don’t think I could have asked for a better trip. As I rode the Alpine Express shuttle back to Gunnison I looked at the mountain and admired the steep snowy slopes I had just spent the better part of 4 days skiing and the lifts I had become good friends with. And the weather could not have been more perfect, sunny some days and snowing others, perfect every day.

The sun was beating down on me in the Alpine Express van, making me drowsy. I leaned my head back on the seat and closed my eyes. About halfway there I hear the driver point out a bald eagle up a head. I slowing opened my eyes and squinted toward the tree I thought she was referring to and barely made out a blackish looking thing that could have been a bird but my eyes were too sleepy to make it out. I blinked a few times and as we passed the tree I saw through the back window a bald eagle sitting in a tree. I smiled inside and thought that was a nice way to end an already wonderful trip. I promptly fell back asleep.

Around Gunnison and Crested Butte (Images of America: Colorado)

Crested Butte: From Coal Camp to Ski Town