The Worst Ski Lessons I Ever Had.
I'm sure everyone remembers the first time they slipped on a pair of skis and headed down the slopes. The prospect of learning a sport that all your friends bragged about was too tempting to resist any longer. After all, the travel channel made it look glamorous and easy. I wanted to be like the guy on TV.
My first attempt at skiing fell far short of what was portrayed on the Boob Tube. I digress. It didn't fall short, it fell hard. Right onto the hard snow with my lower backbone.
The year was 1982 when my friends included me in a trip to Massanutten Ski Resort in Massanutten, VA. We started the road trip from Hampton Roads and ended up at the resort about 4 hours later. I was a bit reluctant since I was the only one from our group of 6 who had never been within 150 miles of a ski slope. Closest I had ever been to a slope was as a 10 year old on a small hill during a rare snow in our neighborhood.
I'm sure everyone remembers the first time they slipped on a pair of skis and headed down the slopes. The prospect of learning a sport that all your friends bragged about was too tempting to resist any longer. After all, the travel channel made it look glamorous and easy. I wanted to be like the guy on TV.
My first attempt at skiing fell far short of what was portrayed on the Boob Tube. I digress. It didn't fall short, it fell hard. Right onto the hard snow with my lower backbone.
The year was 1982 when my friends included me in a trip to Massanutten Ski Resort in Massanutten, VA. We started the road trip from Hampton Roads and ended up at the resort about 4 hours later. I was a bit reluctant since I was the only one from our group of 6 who had never been within 150 miles of a ski slope. Closest I had ever been to a slope was as a 10 year old on a small hill during a rare snow in our neighborhood.
Snow Skiing And Water Skiing Are Not That Much Alike
Never one to back down from a new challenge, I was ready to give it the old college try. How hard could it be? My buddies already assured me that snow skiing is the same as water skiing, which I was pretty good at. The balance was the same they told me. Just put on the skis and go. Great advice. I can do this. After all, my longtime friends would never give me bad advice. Or would they?
Turns out their advice sucked. The only thing remotely similar to water skiing was the two planks attached to my feet.
Not-so-professional Ski Instructions I received from my friends were as follows:
1. Put on your skis. (Off to a good start)
2. Stand at the top of the slope. Keep your skis pointed in front of you. (Now I know I'm in good hands)
3. If you want to stop, turn your skis to the side. (Man, their good)
4. If you have any trouble we will be right there beside you the whole time. (Like an Angel on my shoulder)
5. They left this one out. (Read on, you'll know what I mean)
I especially like the part about being right beside me the whole time. What could go wrong with my trusty friends by my side.
As I stood atop the Bunny Slope the images of being the next Jean-Claude Killy kept flashing in my head. After all, I had been assured that it was just like water skiing. Not to mention the detailed 2 minute ski instructions my buddies left me with. I was brimming with confidence.
Ready, set, go! All 6 of us went down the slope together. For the first 8 seconds at least. They were right; it was just like water skiing. No problem in the area of balance or gaining speed. The problem was when I wanted to STOP (see instruction #5) Did I mention how their instructions sucked. For a first-timer it was not as simple as just turning the skis and burying them in the snow like I saw on the TV.
What happened next was not pretty, but obviously funny, judging by the little kids on the Bunny slope who thought I was a hired clown.
While attempting to stop at about 20 miles an hour I landed tailbone first on what was more like ice than snow. With the temperatures barely above freezing and no snow for the previous 4 days, the resort employed snow machines. The combination of those factors had the snow compacted to what was little more than a sheet of white ice.
Back to my story. After I fell, my tailbone hurt like hell but I had no choice other than to make my way back up the hill to nurse my wounds and ego. My short lived dream of being a professional skier were gone. Those dreams were reduced to clawing my way back up the slope on hands and knees like a 6 foot sissy.
But what about your buddies that promised they would stay beside you the whole time? Thanks for asking. Needless to say, none of them received my vote for humanitarian of the year award. Heck those knuckleheads didn't even know I was missing until they found me in the resort lounge 2 hours later.
If you're wondering if I would repeat the experience, yes I would. Here it is 2014 and the memories of taking my first and last skiing trip with my long time friends is still fresh to this day. And yes we are all still close friends.
One thing the last 32 years has taught me is to hire a professional ski instructor for your first outing. A note of caution: If first thing the instructor tells you is that it's just like water skiing, look for another instructor.
Private ski lessons can get fairly expensive. If you are low on funds and can't afford the real deal, I know a group of 5 instructors from Hampton Roads who will make sure your first trip is memorable. Plus, you will save a ton of money since it will likely be your last ski trip.
