31 tasks

Completed Task #5: Ski

I paused for a moment at the lip of the drop, gazing through the thin cloud into the valley far below.  Sparkling silver motes of the renowned champagne powder glistened around me, lending an ethereal feel to the stunning landscape.  The blinding white horizon behind me was punctuated by snow ghosts – trees so weighed down with flakes that they shed their familiarity, taking on hunched, twisted shapes like characters in an other-worldly fantasy.

Pretty...

I focussed on the sharp descent ahead of me, allowing the huge, oppressive silence of the mountains to first overwhelm and then calm me, concentrating my mind on the sternest test so far.  Many days of training had honed my skills, testing my physical endurance and mental capacity, before depositing me here…at the summit of a black run.  It was time.  I eased to the very edge, fully appreciating the sheer fall of the unforgiving piste for the first time.  I turned my skis downhill, leaned forward and, with a gentle push, gravity took me…

Immediately, my will power battled with my sense of self preservation, forcing my weight onto my lower ski as I turned, feeling my feet pivot as I marked the apex with a pole, arms spread for balance.  My lips moved noiselessly as I repeated the mantra that helped me to retain my posture, that kept my legs moving through the phases of each turn, that forced the pressure towards my ski tips to maintain control.  Two, three, four turns flowed under me, my body forever adjusting as my skis rolled from edge to edge, calves and thighs straining under the constantly shifting tensions. 

...as a...

As I carved down the mountain I imagined crowds lining orange fencing, catching only a glimpse of me flashing by, accelerating, poised, flowing.  Cowbells rang, the cheering intensified, people and landscape blurring as I gathered momentum and courage towards the next tumultuous roll.

Then reality kicked in and I fell on my arse again…

But that’s skiing for you.  From vertical to horizontal in the blink of an eye was a lesson that I’d learnt well during a week of lessons, practice and a bit of après ski fun in-between.  In fact I consider myself a master at the spectacular fall, starting head first, then a flick of the legs to land approximately upright again.  More importantly though, I consider myself an intermediate skier: I went to ski, I learnt to ski.  Thus another task is complete.

And it was truly a pretty place for the task; a neat, compact resort nestled in the Western Rockies called Sun Peaks, affording stunning views of the thickly forested mountains split by blazing white ski runs, and occasional glimpses of the resident Olympian Nancy Greene – Canada’s Female Athlete of the 20th Century no less…

...picture

The chalet was faultless, the nearest ski-in run was 50m from our front door, the food was plentiful and filling, the beer was flavoursome and a far cry from the soul-less lager I’d been expecting with trepidation.  (NB: rice is not an acceptable ingredient in beer.  You know who you are).  The snow was superb, with temperatures of zero degrees Fahrenheit a small price to pay for keeping it that way.

Many thanks to the instructors, Mario, Dennis, Sally, Jess and Peter, who were instrumental in my progress on the piste.  Indeed, the entire service we received at the resort was excellent.  Thanks too, to my fellow ‘Trail’s Edgers’, Rob, Ania, Bryan, Iris, Paul, Julie, Chris and Didi for general support, encouragement, home-made burgers, Paracetemol, snowball fights, bison steak sharing, and an appreciation of the finer points of the Rugby Union kicking game.

I think a (partial) group photo is an appropriate way to finish.  For the record: yes, we would have all fallen over but for Didi and Iris bookending the line…

So, five down (and we’re not talking ski-related injuries here) but so many more to go…