Susan E., a friend at golf, told me this story last week.
Susan’s young son was a Boy Scout and his troop was going to Colorado skiing. They were looking for parents/chaperones to go along, so Susan volunteered. She had skied up in Michigan several times, so she felt she could ski just as well in Colorado. After all it was all skiing! But she was about to find out that there is skiing and then there is SKIING!
Her first reality check was, of course, how high the mountains. But just because the mountains were wayyyy up there, didn’t necessarily mean that when you skied you went all the way to the top, right?
Sure, she could tell herself that, but she got a sinking feeling when the ride up the mountain on the ski lift took a half hour! When they finally got to the top of the run, it was explained to her that the trip down the mountain was broken up by several rest stops, so she wouldn’t have to make the whole run at one time. Ummmm. Okay. Maybe that would work,
But when she got to the first rest stop, she was exhausted. The inside of her thighs already ached because she was constantly turning her toes in to put on the brakes! Okay, this was enough of that.
She called the Ski Patrol. She told them she needed to be taken the rest of the way down the mountain. They asked if she was hurt? No. They asked if she was sick? Well, no. “Sorry. We can’t come and get you just because you are afraid.”
The end of the story is that the Boy Scout Leader, an experienced skier, stayed with her and helped her down the rest of the mountain. She said when she finally got to the bottom, her legs were so shaky and tired that she could hardly walk.
She didn’t actually say, but my guess is that after that she became a “snow bunny” sitting in the lodge and drinking cocoa for the rest of their stay.
Susan learned the hard way that, when you go up, you must come down, heart in your throat, or not.