Ski trip!

Before I regale you with tales of my own experiences, I would like first to impart on you some wisdom I have gathered from my two (successful) ski trips that those of you who have never tried skiing can apply to your own excursions.
-First, skiing generally takes place in cold climates. I don’t mean weather that your average Floridian would consider cold, but closer to weather than your average penguin or polar bear would consider tepid.
-Second, there is no graceful way to walk up stairs in ski boots. Also, there is no safe way to walk down stairs. Some of my most hair-raising white-knuckle moments came from trying to tackle stairs while carrying skis and poles.
-Finally, children learn how to ski much faster than adults. Usually children named Trevor or Brittany who probably already have a blue chip portfolio to their name. This little fact has nothing to do with your personal health or safety, just a warning that you will be surrounded by over-privileged and potentially bratty children.

Day 1 – Getting There
I’d like to tell you that I was prepared to travel days in advance, but then I would just be lying to you, and honestly, there’s no need for that. No, I woke up early so I could pack my suitcase and go buy some necessary equipment, including ski goggles and warmer apparel for hitting the slopes. In between, I was fielding calls from Karol and Michele, both in transit to Wyoming, and both having tremendous difficulties. Since bad things come in threes, I was worried that my travel plans would go awry. This turned out not to be the case, and I arrived in Jackson Hole safe and sound and freezing cold. There was already 2 feet of snow on the ground and more was falling.

Day 2 – Skiing!
Thanks to the two-hour time difference we were able to get up and be to the slopes before the lifts opened, and thanks to favorable meteorological conditions the snow that had started falling the previous night was still going strong and had dumped about 8 inches of fresh powder. For those of you who have never stood on the top of a mountain with two friends while snow is falling at the beginning of a long-awaited ski trip, then you will not understand why I felt the need to orchestrate a group hug. Those of you who have experienced that sheer joy will probably also belong to the club of people who know why a group hug, while wearing skis on the slope is a bad idea. It can lead to falling. Seriously, the skiing was fantastic, made even better by the amazing views and complete lack of over-crowding that Vail suffers from.

Day 3 – Ghosts In The Woods
On this second day of skiing we were privileged to witness a unique phenomenon that folklore in the Alps call “ghosts in the woods.” The story goes that sometime while skiing, a person will see a mysterious and ghostly light coming from the trees. These lights are said to be the ghosts of other skiers who met their demise investigating similar lights in the trees. In truth, the light is caused by sunlight reflecting off of low fog that gathers at the base of the mountain and is diffracted through the ice crystals that hang in the air for a few days after a heavy snow. The angle of reflection is such that the light typically ends up shining through the trees. You can choose for yourself which explanation you like best. The low hanging fog also causes the inversion effect where it is actually colder at the base of the mountain than at the top. Karol initially explained that was a result of being closer to the sun.

Day 4 – Black Diamond!
I am delighted to say that I recalled the finer points of skiing faster than I thought I would and limited most of my falling to the first day. By this third day of skiing, I was feeling pretty confident about my abilities, so confident in fact that I felt ready to tackle a black diamond. For those of you who are not ski literate, there is a system of colored shapes that indicate the degree of danger each run presents to a skier. Runs marked with a black diamond are as dangerous to me as giant sharks are to Roy Scheider. Despite the fact that most of the powder had turned to ice, which is much less favorable to skiing, I am happy to say I made it all the way down, mostly without falling! The day ended with Karol doing a summersault and losing his cell phone on the mountain. After some showers and some home made chili, we decided to go into town and maybe find a nice place to get some hot chocolate. As it turns out, the whole city of Jackson Hole has some sort of arrangement where all the business close at 6 P.M. We could find no reason for this, because the mountain closes at 4, and after some time to relax, grab a shower and dinner, and get to the city itself, its already well after 6. I think there is some sort of tax loophole that these businesses are exploiting by existing, but not actually serving any real, physical human beings. Karol and I saw this as an opportunity to knock down the icicles that we viewed as a real public danger. Finally, after about a hour of wandering around and looking at all the stores that would have been cool if they were open, we found a place where we could get, no joke, organic hot chocolate. I have precious little experience in the realm of organic stuff, but I think that ‘organic’ must just be a hip and trendy word for ‘tastes like dirt.’

Day 5 – Flat Light
Today started by finding Karol’s phone, exactly where he lost it. Indeed, his stout little phone withstood a whole night on the mountain in freezing temperatures. It was just a little cold and hungry when we found it, right next to the butt print Karol left when he fell. By this fourth day of skiing, the conditions had deteriorated considerably on the slopes. The snow had become ice which is as much fun to ski and fall on as regular asphalt. The completely gray sky and the completely white ground conspired to form “flat light” which plays hell with your depth perception. After a half-day of lukewarm skiing, we all retired to a restaurant to watch the Bucs game. We all know how that turned out. We decided to take the sting out of that loss by going next door to the Mangy Moose bar to drown our sorrows. I drowned mine with several carafes of water. I was trying to save up to write my name in the snow, but alas I cannot claim I did that on this particular trip. I had enough stored up to write the preamble to the Constitution, but in the end it was just plain too cold for that kind of shenanigans. In the end we went back to the hotel and called it a night. We all had to get up early to get to the airport anyway.

Day 6 – The Trip Home
For such a small airport, the Jackson Hole airport is remarkably inefficient. One giant line leads through security into one common room with five doors, humorously called “gates” for familiarity’s sake, which lead directly onto the tarmac. The gate you exit through does not in any way correspond to the location of your plane, either. Karol left out of the far left door and walked to the far right plane, while Michele and I did the exact opposite. I think that’s just some light-hearted fun the airport staff has at the tourist’s expense. The plane we took to Denver was some little prop job that bounced through the air with all the grace of a pumpkin that had been shot out of a cannon. We arrived safely, and thanks to the precision of the modern airline industry, I had to flat out run to my next plane. I had a seat overlooking the cargo hold, so I could personally verify that my luggage, having traveled between at a much more leisurely pace, was at least put on the same plane I was. It was not until I reached Chicago that I had a free moment to find a shady spot in the airport and have a little snack. I didn’t have the time or the funds to buy actual food, so I had to sustain myself on two granola bars that had spent the previous 4 days riding around in my ski suit. They of course were reduced to individual granola molecules, but I was not in a position to be picky. I made it home in one piece, and could close the file on my second successful ski trip, and I’m already working on plans for next year.

In other news, I was skating down the trail the other day and came to the overpasses by target and Wal-Mart, and I had to laugh. This ski trip really put things in perspective. I no longer get into the bent-kneed brace-for-impact stance I used to when going down hill. Now that I know the mortal peril of skiing through trees and over frozen chipmunks, I’m not so wary going down a leisurely 30 degree grade of pavement. Now I just wonder why I can’t go faster.