If you know me, chances are you know that I am absolutely obsessed with skiing and the snow. I am able to bore people for hours (as well as being able to talk endlessly about ski design, boots, chairlifts, resorts, runs, snow, powder and much more). It's a fatal flaw, I know, but I've been absolutely hooked on hurtling down a snowy hill with two planks of wood attached to my feet via very uncomfortable plastic boots since an extremely young age.
It's in my blood, actually. My dad and uncle are both mad keen (and very good) skiers. My mum has loved it ever since my dad started teaching her. Even my dad's parents have been skiing for decades. I caught the bug early and have had it ever since.
My brother, Ed, and I have been skiing since we were 4 and 6 respectively. Our first skiing experience was at Heavenly in Lake Tahoe. I have three enduring memories from back then. The first was learning how to ski in an area called the Enchanted Forest. There was a collection of magic carpets and rope tows that were well guarded using plastic fencing and extensive roping-off, so that one couldn't accidentally ski into them and knock other people over. Nevertheless, your's truly succeeded in finding the one weak point in the fence and bowled everyone over.
The second was riding the lift down with my ski instructor after a lesson. We were riding the Gunbarrel Express, which downloads to the California base from the learner's area mid-mountain. Suddenly, the lift emergency stopped and left the chair swinging violently backwards and forwards. Back then, the seats were made out of polished wooden planks and had no restraining bar. The chair descends over a run called 'The Face' which is double-black, very steep with huge moguls. Being a beginner skier and seeing this run as the chair swung back and forth was like fronting up to face the Terminator armed with a hammer. It put the fear of god into me.
My final memory from that first experience was the blizzard we endured on the final day. It was -20 celsius, blowing quite hard and snowing heavily, yet we still braved the conditions to ride some of the mid-mountain lifts before they were shut.
Since then, I have skied in Australia, New Zealand, America again, Switzerland, France and, most recently, Canada, but I always look back on that trip to remind myself of just how good skiing is. The fear and excitement you experience when doing something difficult or something you've never done before. Nature's awesome power and destructiveness. And the difficulty of just doing one snowplow turn on a pair of skis.
As I've grown up, I thought I'd eventually succumb to everyday life and lose my interest in skiing. If anything, the opposite has happened. I thought I could get it out of my system after doing a season at Whistler-Blackcomb in 09/10. If anything it has stoked my passion even more. Doubtless when I head to Vail in January for 2 and a half weeks of heaven, it will remind me of just what I'm missing.
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As an aside from my cycling blog, http://derailleurblog.blogspot.com/, this blog hopes to look at one of my other sporting passions, skiing. As mentioned above, I've been skiing since a very young age and have been lucky to ski at some of the world's best and largest resorts.
I hope you enjoy reading some of these posts as much as I love writing them and stay tuned for more photos, reports, info and more.
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