Last March, I went skiing for the first time in 10 years. We usually spend our winters snowmobiling, and I’ll be honest – I have the coordination of a 2-year-old, so skiing isn’t high on my list of hobbies.
My sister-in-law is an avid skier – and my husband, Rylee, grew up going to the mountain every weekend. My brother Kael and I (the dairy farmers) could count on one hand the number of times we’d been on a ski run. The cool thing about living near the mountains is that our schools had a designated “ski day” growing up, and this is where Kael and I learned how to snowboard and ski, respectively.
Our local ski resort hosted a "Vintage Day" and encouraged folks to come to the mountain dressed in their best vintage gear. Lift tickets were only $20, so I called my brother and sister-in-law and told Rylee we were going. Rylee had been working on the new lodge being built at said ski resort and actually scored us some free rentals for the day. I was so excited – it’s not often you can ski for $20 and your gas to drive up the canyon.
My husband’s family has a plethora of old ski gear, so we went to the mountain decked out. I had a vintage one-piece snowsuit that made me look like my skill level was much higher than it is. Rylee wore Wranglers and a denim coat – going for the "vintage but slightly redneck" look.
My sister-in-law, Saydee, took on the task of teaching Kael to ski. This is like watching a baby calf stand for the first time. I was doubled over laughing for the first 30 minutes we spent on the bunny hill. Rylee was showing off his skills, skiing backward, on one foot, jumping and such. Kael was doing his best not to do the splits. I was taking it easy, one turn at a time.
After a few runs on the bunny hill, we opted to head up the moderate hill. We hopped on the lift and Rylee and Saydee took off down the mountain. Kael followed in quick pursuit. My adrenaline started to kick in and I started going a little faster as my brain remembered how to ski. Rylee and Saydee played around on the terrain park for a minute, Kael went full speed past and Saydee followed. I did my best to avoid any jumps and/or obstacles and made it through. Rylee was waiting for me at the bottom of the next little hill. I started picking my way down, going a little faster at each turn as my confidence built. I skied into some shade and made another turn on the icy snow. My downhill ski caught the upper one and I heard a loud "POP." Pain shot up my leg and down I went, howling.
Rylee was a few hundred yards down the mountain and thought I was laughing. A snowboarder passed me, then yelled at Rylee, “I think she’s hurt!" Rylee took his skis off and ran uphill, reaching me the same time a couple Good Samaratins did. After ski patrol was called and I took a ride in a toboggan, we cut our ski day short after one hour on the mountain.
Almost a year later with a full ACL reconstruction complete, this little accident has taught me a few lessons. The most important being that cheap fun can turn expensive in a hurry. My advice to you? Stay off icy snow.
