Six of us clung together on the snow-covered hill, waiting for the instructor. A slight wind shift, or even a hearty sneeze would affect our delicate balance and down we’d all go again like bowling pins.
Finally, the instructor arrived, rocketing cross-hill and stopping on a dime. The resulting shower of disturbed snow sent us crashing to the ground again. “Hi, I’m Ingrid, your instructor,” she said, helping me get vertical. “Are you a beginner?” she asked.
“Not exactly,” I said. “This is my third week.”
“What can you do?”
“I can fall down to either side and I can get up. I know a dozen ways to get up now, but I’d like a few pointers from a pro about moving forward.”
“First of all,” Ingrid said, “Your ski poles are upside down. Those pointy ends can be dangerous.”
Since I was not a raw beginner, Ingrid used me to demonstrate a basic maneuver, traversing across a downhill path. “Just make it from here to that fir tree over there,” she said, and I got to that tree in quick time.
“I should have been clearer,” Ingrid apologized. “I meant for you to ski to the tree. This isn’t a crawling lesson.” I disagreed. Some of my classmates were still practicing falling down safely. Now they needed a get-out-of -the-way lesson.
After a rather disastrous “snow plow” skiing lesson, ziggzagging down the hill, dodging speedy teenagers, we arrived at the bottom thanks to Ingrid’s heroic rescues and the buddy system. We looked like a battered Mount Everest expedition, leaning on each other and on our bent poles, with our torn ski jackets flapping in the wind.
“Next is your important ski lift lesson,” Ingrid announced. (They should have ordinary elevators for beginners, I think. But no, they have only confusing uphill lifts and ambulances.)
“The lift chair is your comfortable carrier to the top,” Ingrid announced. “Just move quickly as the chair arrives, slip in and enjoy the ride.” A moment later, she was shouting, “STOP THE LIFT!”
I tried to be of some help in untangling the pile, but I was near the bottom and somone’s ski had me pinned down.
Ingrid looked in at the First Aid Station where some of us were being patched up. “You’re a courageous skier,” she said to me, but I’m sure you should try some other sport.”
“I agree, Ingrid,” I said. “But skiing was at the top of my bucket list. I guess I’ll just try my second wish where there’s only one simple step to take.”
“What’s next on your list?”
“Sky diving.”
“Oh dear!”
Imagine That 