The skiing days

Back in New Zealand when it was winter we used to go skiing up Mount Hutt. We'd leave by six and wouldn't be back til late; they were the best days out. The weather up there would be crazy. One time we went, in the morning it was so hot we were in the snow wearing tshirts. In the afternoon, we were going up the chairlift and couldn't even see our hand when it was in front of us.. that was the best and scariest time I ever had skiing.

I remember the first time I ever went, I'd never done it before, but figured I would be totally amazing at it (I always think I'm going to be amazing at new things... I don't know why, I guess I reckon somehow if I say it enough it will happen).

 

So after about two times wobbling down the little practice slope, desperately wanting to trip up the shitty little kids who were about two foot and were doing flips, I thought I was a pro, and skipped the next two slopes, getting off at the top instead of quarter or halfway up the mountain. For some reason, I was totally fearless. 

It took a long time to get down the mountain, even if you'd skiid for years. Yet I managed to get down faster than anyone.. I hadn't learnt how to slow down, or turn, or stop, right up until the bottom where I realised I had to either learn to stop rapidly, or fly into a massive crowd of people. 

And, hey, thats how I learnt to ski.