The art of falling gracefully
Sunday 30th of December saw us determined to head off over to Mount Hood to try our hand at skiing. I’d never been before but Jen and James are old hands so we decided to risk our necks on the slopes during a rather heavy snow-storm.
We rose early and had a hearty breakfast courtesy of our hosts. It was snowing like buggery again but it did make Steve and Miraya’s front yard look rather beautiful:
All the snow made the drive to Mount Hood somewhat interesting. Thankfully, James is more than experienced at driving in these conditions and we managed to negotiate our way into Oregon and up the side of a very high, snowy peak. The signs were not particularly helpful – we could hardly tell if we were heading in the right direction for quite a while. However, we eventually arrived at one of the lower car parks where we caught a bus up to the resort.
The snow was getting really heavy at this point but we came here for skiing and skiing we would do. Jo and I decided to buy two hours of private tuition as we’d never been skiing before so we bought the lessons, hired the gear we needed and headed out to the slopes to meet our instructor.
The lessons turned out to be a fantastic idea. Our instructor, Peter Nance, was brilliant. He taught us the basics and had us skiing around the baby slopes in no time. He was really friendly and helpful and even though I managed to fall over on the pull-rope heading up the baby slope (along with a four-year old) I was feeling confident enough to try out the first green slope.
I managed to get three goes down the “buttercup” before my two hours ran out. The third time down the slope I managed to completely wipe myself out by going a little too fast for my fledgling skiing abilities. I landed on my head but where there’s no sense there’s no feeling right?
After handing in our rented gear we headed to the bar for apple cider (for the girls) and beer and chilli (for me) before heading back down the mountain. I managed to take a couple of shots just before we left as the snow had stopped, mostly, and I could see further than a few yards in from of my face.
The drive back was even more slippy than the way up but we made it back to White Salmon in one piece, where there was more beer waiting for us. I like beer.
The skiing was such a lot of fun and I can hardy wait to try it again.