No video nor photo evidence of this one...but thought I'd try to paint a picture of my most embarrassing moment to date...
I’ve come to learn you can’t take yourself too seriously. Otherwise it just leads to disappointment, frustration and overall lack of fun. This is especially the case with skiing. I mean you’re connecting a plank, constructed of fiberglass, wood, and metal, to each foot and letting gravity take you to the bottom of the hill; only to go back up and do it again. Pretty silly when you think about it.
Everyone who has skied with me knows I have a fairly acceptable amount of grace when gravitating to the bottom of the hill on skis. They also know the severe lack of grace when standing still, getting on a chairlift or moving slowly on a flat section of trail…a baby fawn with flippers comes to mind.
Last weekend, as most of you know, the Northeast got dumped on…Western Maine got a solid foot and a half of fresh, light, beautiful powder. I don’t remember the last time I had so many untouched lines in a resort setting. This was a day for the books. This was also a day my dear husband will never let me forget…
My husband and I skated through the lift corral, pausing momentarily at the “wait here” location, and pushed on to the “Load Here” zone. Being a fixed grip quad, the kind attendant bumped the chair for us. The chair came to us, and we were whisked away. Still grinning ear to ear from our last run, I settled in, oblivious to what was to come next. The chair swung up. Then back. And forward again. Upon the forward motion, my tip got caught. The lift was too low, there was too much snow! It dug deeper as the chair continued forward. The chair rocked back so far that both my husband and I soon found ourselves in a pile in the snow. He was even more surprised than myself… “What just happened?” he asked. I almost went with the “I have no idea” … before I admitted my foolish mistake . The lift stopped, we picked ourselves up, and went back to the loading zone. Hanging my head low, avoiding eye contact with the one group waiting at the "Wait Here" mark, I apologized profusely to the lift attendant.
Two lessons were learned that day: “Tips up” isn’t just for unloading and never get complacent with loading a chairlift.