iheartskiboots...

So my ski season came to a close last weekend. I'd say it was quite successful - thirteen rounds and no injuries. Well, unless you count the time at the condo. When Laura was dancing me around the living room trying out an intense polka spin. We spun right into the futon arm. Bruise the size of a silver dollar on the upper thigh. After that event we decided boys do have it pretty rough leading all the time, and that we'd leave it up to them.

Anyway, back to skiing. It was a great snow season. Of course it's my first real ski season, so anything is better than previous experiences. The best part was hanging out with all the different people I got to ski with - local friends, friends from a land far, far away, friends who didn't even know they'd end up skiing with me, and family too. I'll be honest. My brother is probably the most fun to ski with. And no it's not because he sprays me with powder every chance he gets. He can go stinkin' fast and tear up the trees too. All the while I'm left panting trying to keep up. It's great.

The season has also brought on some new experiences for me... such as witnessing a dude (cough... cough... Nate... cough) torpedoing down the mountain sans any stopping lessons, skis, poles, goggles everywhere. Complete yard sale. Actually, correction. Multiple yard sales. But Laura and I did not lack entertainment when he was on the hill. I should probably give him a little credit - for a first timer he rocked the slopes and was paralleling within the first five minutes. It's the "under control" thing we'll be tackling next, and then he'll be set. Except I don't think he'll technically ever want to be under control, which may make my coaching a little more difficult. I also took out a skier for the first time this year. Maybe, possibly because I was out of control and slid up right behind the poor guy, but none the less, everyone should do it sometime.

And (perhaps a little off the ski topic, but closely related) when we weren't eating delicious peanut butter sandwiches to keep our tummies full, Michaela, Laura and I stumbled upon the MooseJaw one fine evening and found ourselves some decent grub. Complete with a full-on mountain town atmosphere. Beautiful. I mean rustic. Uhh... beatifully rustic it was.

Next year is another go. I'll probably take lessons to improve my technique... I've realized some bad habits have been fairly well established by now. Hopefully the cousins and I will have our pass situation figured out a little more this time around - we couldn't match up on a mountain this season, which really was the only bummer I encountered.

So, here's to a great ski season in CO Part I. If I can help it there will be many, many more in store.