As soon as he graduated from high school, my older brother Mike left our house and never came back to live there. He and I really didn’t see a lot of each other for a few years. Then after UT, I moved back to Houston. We became closer again over time. He invited me to go skiing to Ruidoso, NM. Having never skied, I took lessons at Ski Houston. Ski Houston had an angled motorized carpet which moved over rollers . You put on ski boots and skis and voila! You learned to ski. Or so they said. I took 5 lessons.
After arriving in Ruidoso, I put on my boots and skis which I had rented in Houston-a mistake. (Always rent equipment where you are skiing in case there is a problem with it.) All I had on was a pair of long-undies, a turtleneck, jeans, a light jacket and gloves.- No bibs, nothing waterproof at all- Bigger mistake. He had told me that’s all he was taking and I should be OK. (It didn’t occur to me that he’d been skiing for years and never fell.) I listen again to my brother who says “Let’s go to the top.”-Bigger mistake yet. I had never tried to ski on real the snow before. -GIGANTIC mistake. I got to the top of first run and took off. I forgot everything I learned in class about traversing. Instead I go straight down the fall line with my poles over my head, screaming at the same time.
Eventually I fall. I’m laying there expecting to be flat chested when I get up, having landed on my chest. As I’m laying there he schusses over to me, spraying me with snow as he stops. “Are you hurt?” I wiggle everything and am relieved to see that I’m not paralyzed. I reply “No.” “Then you can’t scream”, I’m told. I tell him that’s it for me until I have a lesson- or perhaps ever. He tells me I’ve got to get down by myself. The ski patrol won’t come unless you’re hurt. Mike tells me the easiest way to get down the mountain and he takes off without me. (I was slowing him down I’m told.)
As I am crossing over on a path from that first run trying to get to a beginner slope to get down, someone yells, “On your left.” I freak out and move too far to the right, tumbling onto a black diamond run. I tumbled about 50 ft. before stopping. I still don’t know what stopped me. It must’ve been my guardian angel. I couldn’t climb back up. I couldn’t ski down.
People were whipping around me on all sides. Some yelled, “Are you OK?” I desperately wanted to scream “No.” However, having been told that the ski patrol won’t come unless your broken, I just sat there and gave people a thumbs-up. What really made me crazy were the little kids blasting by me. What were they-5 or 6? By now, my pants are completely soaked through and my teeth are chattering like a pair of wind-up teeth from the dime store. I was praying that a big grizzly would come by and end my misery, only to remember that they were hibernating. Bummer!
By now it’s about 4:00 and getting late in the day. I’m still sitting in snow and now I’m starting to cry. (Mike had never come looking for me. ) Out of the blue a guy schussed over to me. He has beautiful blond hair and looked like Prince Charming to me. He assessed my situation and told me I’ve got to get off the mountain before I get hypothermia. He said he will carry my skis while he skis to the bottom of the run. I’m to slide on my backside to the bottom where he will be waiting for me. I do as I’m told. In a few minutes I’m off that run. Bryan, AKA Prince Charming, was very patient with me as I made my way down the rest of the mountain. When we’re about 200 yds. from the lodge, Mike shows up next to me with the ski patrol.
I trudged to the bus and am barely strong enough to climb up the three steps. I got to our room and passed out. When I stepped onto the bus the next day I got a round of applause. ( Appearently the tale of my exploit the day before was common knowledge by now.) I saw our parents in Houston three days later. I was bruised all over and my dad said I looked like I’d been in a gang rape. Looking back now I see that the trip was just a fiendish plot of Mike’s so he could get my share of our inheritance one day- all $52 or so. But I persevered. I went to Steamboat Springs the next year. I spent 1 day in lessons then went off to the intermediate runs. I made it all the way down the first run without falling. ( I didn’t say it was pretty.) I felt like Rocky Balboa( in Rocky II, that is.) Life was good.
