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Your first ski day ever

post #1 of 5
Thread Starter 
Do you remember the first ski day you ever had and what your impressions were?

Mine was during my eighth grade ski trip to Villa Olivia, a beginner's hill in the Northwestern Chicago suburbs. It has 15 skiable acres and a vertical drop of a whopping 180 feet. I remember a whole mess of out of control pre-adolescents cannonballing and wiping out everywhere. What a great time! However, I wasn't bitten by the ski bug until almost 10 years later during my first ski trip out West to Vail. Since then, I've been obsessed.
post #2 of 5
(collective VOICE of BEARS:

"oh god, here comes ryan and that damned first day at buttermilk again, and again and again and again. d'ya think he can stop himself this time, all that yakkity yak about how he was 'hooked,' and all that hooey about 'epiphanies' and 'sheer joy' and that crap about how lucky he was to get the instructor he had blah blah blah. freakin' ryan. SHUDDUPPaboutitalready!")

i hear ya.
post #3 of 5
Hey Ryan,

I hear ya. Seeing how I only got to retreat to 1993 and instructions from the ex....GRR!

My only saving grace is knowing Costco girl smokes and cannot ski. So, that "younger" quality will be flying up in smoke soon enough (if not out on a broom).

post #4 of 5
I was 9 yrs old. It was near Singsas, Norway. My brother went up the T-bar first and my dad and I went next. Big bro was supposed to get off before it got steep and wait for us but the fog was so bad none of us could see. Eventually we reached the top! I had XC-Skied a little, and alpine skied in the yard once. Now I was on top of an intermediate slope in dense fog. I was scared, my toes were frozen and I was crying. I kept traversing until I would reach the treeline, then not have any way to turn around. Dad was scared because big bro had disappeared, we never saw him at all so Dad was trying to hurry me down and I wouldn't go fast enough.

After we got down through the fog it was sunny. The slope evened out and I began to let it go. I was smiling and laughing before I reached the bottom. That afternoon at the 'hytte', under the watchful eye of above-treeline mountains, my brother and I built a jump off the shoulder of the road and started hiking up the hill on the other side, skiing across the road and airing off the road onto the steep shoulder. We kept going until we had to come in for dinner. The next day we were at it again before breakfast.

I often reflect upon this experience as an instructor. Both in empathy for the frightened and for understanding of how quickly a bad skiing experience can become a good one,instilling a lifelong passion for the mountain experience.
post #5 of 5
1967, Charnita, PA (now called Ski Liberty.) I was 5 and that's where I attempted to ski my brand new Volkl Tigers for the first time.

Later, I taught skiing at Ski Liberty as a weekend job during undergrad. Linda Steinle was the SS Director.

Ah, the memories...
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