Following the Christmas break, it’s been a tough road to get back on a regular schedule. Laurel’s school had only a half day on Thursday, anticipating a storm that didn’t show until 5 PM. Perhaps more disturbing was the reappearance of cowboys on the highway. As I drove home from work on Thursday night, there was a couple of inches of slush and powder on Interstate 80. Pro tip: going 60 in that s*** with all wheel drive and all season tires is not prudent.
Friday and Saturday I went skiing at my local, no longer secret training spot. With the brutal temperatures on Friday, I had Freedom Park to myself. But it took a good 40 minutes to get warm as I put in a track in the lower woods and up along the power line. Unfortunately there’s not enough snow to completely cover the rocks on the power line trail. Arriving Saturday afternoon, plenty of people had been there early to ski the tracks in. And it was, comparatively speaking, mobbed: there were eight other skiers there while I was out.
On Sunday, I took Laurel and one of her friends to ski High Point. The night before, I lay awake with a more than mild anxiety attack. It’d be Abby’s first time skiing. What if she hated it, what if she didn’t get it, what if she had a bad fall despite my best efforts?
The dry powder High Point received had compressed down to a thin but skiable base after grooming. The lake was windblown, and we’d be skiing across ice in some sections. But the Scenic View trail was in good shape.
Never having skied before, Abby picked up the basics quick from Laurel. She wasn’t just walking on skis, she was kicking and gliding nicely. After lunch, we went out and back the Scenic View trail, and Abby handled successively more difficult downhills with aplomb. In suboptimal conditions, she did great on her first day skiing. Hopefully Laurel has a new ski buddy.
It’s important to me to give back to my sport. It’s not just teaching my own child to ski. It’s turning on others with no prior experience to the freedom of the glide.