Skiing

It can’t be denied- we are surrounded by heavenly skiing. The kids have skied about 3 times and Brett more extensively in Colorado. They are thrilled and excited. The potential is wasted on me. My alternative is to stay home, sit in the car or take the car for my own adventure. I strap on skis.
Yes, and I was very proud of myself for going up and down the snail hill several times and making my long, slow, wide turns all the way down. I only fell once. It was a quiet 3 minutes up the tow rope and a peaceful 10 down the mountain. It was a beautiful and relaxing way to enjoy the view. As I packed myself back into real shoes, Brett said the day was a success-“ You’re not bruised or broken!”
DD6 had a little trouble with the button-style tow rope. It requires the rider to pull down a large elastic button , hold it between their legs and have it pull up the hill. Each time she approached the lift, our Austrian operator came out of his box to help her on. Luckily she and I were the only 2 on the snail hill for most of the day, so the lift ran in slow motion.
The boys made their way to the intermediate slope, enjoying the wipe-outs as much as the successful runs.
But Brett had his day. Finally, the trek to Europe had it’s pay-off as this middle-aged man found his peace on the mountain. He rode the gondola to the peak and cut his way through the Alpine forests to the base 20 minutes later. We rode with him up to the top and left him there. The combination of athletic challenge, view and affordability was enough to make him giddy.
Granted, Brett was in rental equipment. His small head required a kid’s helmet and he hit the trails with the Austrian Schwarzenegger-like men wearing a “Kinder-club” sticker on his forehead. It was apropos, because after every run, he came to me saying “Just once more. Can I go once more?”
One day wasn’t enough. His indulgent wife has agreed. He’s free to go back tomorrow & tame the mountain family-free.