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Great Experience
Have you ever had an experience you carry with you through life that had so much impact on you that whenever you think of it You are somehow renewed?
I can think of one right off the top of my head.
Out of six children, I, being the youngest had several activities which I pursued separately from the bunch. Downhill skiing was my favorite.
From the age of seven I went to ski school during the winters at a place called Hyak in the Cascade Mountains. It was located a good 50 minutes from Seattle by bus and had a pretty good snowpack by mid-December.
As I improved my abilities, learning the "right" ways to turn, stop, and basically navigate different kinds of terrain and snow. We also learned safety precautions, and what to do in extreme situations.
It was a fun thing to do and since I was sort of a loner in my home life I enjoyed being with a group of other kids who were learning the same things as me. We all went to different schools but lived in the same general area of town.
My grandparents lived in Eastern Washington, in a small town called Wenatchee. It was located about three hours by bus East of Seattle. I went to visit in the summer, at some Holidays and, during the winter vacation...to ski!
There was a fantastic ski area 12 miles from the front door of my grandparents house called Mission Ridge. It was Huge! Mission Ridge had beautiful dry snow, lots of powder and sunshine (which was something skiers at the ski areas where I normally skied were not blessed with, being on the west side of the Cascade mountain range.
Mission Ridge prided ittself with the longest runs, and the best view from the top of the highest chairlift. From the tippy-top I truly believed I was touching Heaven on a sunny day.
My excursion in seventh grade began on a Greyhound Bus in Seattle. I had all new ski equipment and enough money to ski every day I was there.
Grandma was waiting for me at the bus depot and we proceeded to do our usual, go to the grocery store, set up the cot-house, making my bed and supplying it with toilet paper and towels for my visit.
Next day, my first day skiing I was up with the sun making my lunch, dressing in my ski clothes and waxing my "boards" as we called them.
I remember going in to the lodge seeing a sign that said!
"DANGER! Upper Slopes May Be Icy In Morning!"
OK, I will get warmed up and go up there in the afternoon when things are a little safer.
During lunch I met a group of kids who lived in Wenatchee. They were on Winter vacation and it was their first time up this winter. We decided to pair up and hit the Big Chairlift.
The top was a frozen winter wonderland and it was so cold the trees looked like ice sculptures with white hats on. The elevation being around 5200 feet, was the highest point around, and you can bet it was a blow away view of all the ridges as far as the eye could see.
My new friends and I agreed we would go around the side at first along the Cross Country trail to avoid the "bowl". The bowl was a very steep icy run directly under the chairlift, which ended in a long run of massive moguls.
*Moguls are big bumps in the hill which, if you time it and ski right can make your run a lot of fun.*
We sailed down the hill whooping hollering back and forth and having fun. It took around 45 minutes to go all the way to the bottom. The reason we went to the very bottom was to get a really good rest in between runs. *By riding the first chairlift, then the second one up to the top we were well rested and ready for another run.*
It was nearly closing time and my friends had to go. Their Mom was waiting in the parking lot. The sun was going down and the wind was starting to blow.
My legs were burning from all that exercise and it was time to wrap it up for the day.
We all made a plan to meet the next day at the lodge when it opened and do, pretty much the same thing.
That night I Slept like a baby that night with visions of which different runs I could take and how to plan my day.
When I got to the lodge none of my friends were there yet. It was OK because I needed to get warmed up before going to the Top.
I took 2 runs down the lower chair underneath it so, if and when my friends came they would see me on their way up. Plus, I was a bit of a show-off and practiced my fancy manouvers where everyone going up could see me.
I heard a "SOOZ!" as I methodically turned right, whoosh, left, whoosh, right, whoosh,...and there were my friends going up the chair lift. "Meet us at the top!" They shouted.
I was so excited I headed straight down directly in the "bowl" which was covered in nice dry powder snow. My turning was not as easy as the tips of my skis were disappearing under the new snow.
Suddenly the tips disappeared altogether and I hit a patch of ice.
If that wasn't bad enough I was going straight down the hill now and out of control.
My heart was pounding and just when I thought about abandoning everything and making an intentional fall to save myself from certain disaster I hit a mogul BOOM!
One ski went down the hill and the other was buried underneath me.
MY glove and pole were somewhere and my hat and goggles were...somewhere. I had the wind knocked out of me and my chest ached when ever I tried to take a breath.
I had come into an area off the beaten path where they had not groomed the snow which was far deeper,...and steeper than the regular hill.
The bad part about this situation was I was concerned my friends would be mad that I didn't show up, and not want to ski with me anymore.
Also, I worried if I had broken my wrist. I had an instant headache and the snow was packed in every part of my snowsuit imaginable.
I had wet my pants and to tell the truth I was stuck with one leg completely turned and still attached to my ski.
No idea how much time went by, but I found my one ski, glove, poles and goggles/hat combination and limped down the hill carrying my ski crying all the way down
The Ski Patrol had discovered my other ski careening down the hill and set it up by the chair lift.
I went in the lodge bathroom where I changed my pants washed off my face, which was bright red from the sun, and the wind and the hike down the hill.
I looked in the mirror and saw this defeated looking girl there with puffy eyes and felt horrible.I was completely exhausted and alltogether defeated. What a pitiful sight I was!
My Grandparents appeared at the same time but this day I was not so happy. I had sat in the lodge crying the rest of the afternoon because I felt as though I let my friends down, and that I was a bad skier having taken that stupid fall.
To make matters worse my Mom and StepFather had plans to drive over, spend the weekend and we would all ski together for 2 days, then drive home.
I swore I was never going skiing again...at least not there!
Next day I watched TV while my Grandmother went to her volunteer job and Grandpa slept (he worked nights). I was truly feeling sorry for myself, and had no one to talk to about it. My body ached all over, but mostly, my Pride had been severely wounded.
I didn't tell my Mom what had happened when she called saying they would be there Friday night so they could enjoy One day skiing with me Saturday.
She told of how they had bought a new camera and lots of film for the occasion and how excited they were.
I was not planning on going but never said a word about it.
They arrived Friday night, as planned and we agreed to go up a little later the next day after the ski slope warmed up a bit and take pictures and have some fun.
While my parents were getting all the gear they needed I stood outside the rental shop shaking with fear. It was tough to hide the fact that I really didn't even want to be there!
I was afraid that the next time, I would break a leg.
Also, I didn't want my friends to see me at ALL after leaving them waiting for me at the top of the hill. I knew for sure they were not at all pleased, and would ridicule me to no end for that!
My Mom came out of the rental shop with a huge smile on her face loaded with all her ski gear. My Step Father even had a smile on his face.
Suddenly it occured to me that I didn't even have to ski...I could simply spend the day teaching them how to ski!.
We had a fantastic morning. My folks were having a great time going up the rope tow and falling and laughing, and taking pictures.
By lunch I knew it was going to be OK, and we went out for a while more. Mom said she was tired and they would be in the lounge and to "go have fun".
Thoughts of that run I had made swirled around in my head and a shiver of taking the One Run began entering my mind.
You know, the One Run of the season..the One Run to remember...the Most Glorious Run of the Year?
Up to the top I went with the camera stuffed in my inside pocket of my ski parka.
I scoped out the runs as I went higher and higher up to the top of the mountain and saw a lone skier make a pattern over on the edge of the packed snow.
At the top a few deep breaths and down I went, legs shaking, cautiously turning, methodically to the spot where I saw the lone skier making patterns in the snow.
It was perfect! As I looked down I envisioned My pattern, how it would look and where on the ski hill. Yes! I would make My pattern in the fresh powder snow and take a picture of it!
Down I went left turn right turn left right left right ...to the bottom.
I looked up and there it was! My pattern in the snow.
I took off my skis, grabbed the camera and found the most awesome angle to take a picture of my pattern in the snow.
I took the rest of the roll, minus one for getting a good shot of my parents in the lounge.
We returned to Seattle exhausted, but everyone had fun and I was very excited to get the pictures developed.
When I got the pictures back I took the best out of the ones I took of my design on the hill, and put it on my bulletin board above my desk in my bedroom.
It was funny, because I had the worst experience EVER that week up skiing, and the absolute BEST experience as well.
I overcame my fears,and had fun helping my parents learn to ski.
Something amazing had happened...I started really appreciating and enjoying myself, my talent and skill as a skier, snow pattern designer, and as a teacher.
Since then I have marvelled at great skiers and ski movie-makers such as Warren Miller. I could watch his documentaries end-to end and enjoy every minute of it.
Every time I see one of those movies (Steep and Deep being my all-time favorite) I remember the pictures I took the last day skiing at Mission Ridge.
I learned that an experience is EXACTLY what we make it,...no more no less. We can turn an experience into a life changing event or similarily a devastating turn in our outlook on life and living.
* The choice is ours and ours alone.*
The Author Susan R Allen
Sooz58.com
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