How the sneaky ski-hill "tricked" me

Well, I figured out how to post a picture. A big thanks out to Maryanne. It is a good thing I have friends like her to explain to my brilliant self that to add a picture you press the "add image" button. Maybe it is not so hard to figure out how I was tricked into doing a black diamond run after all.

It was the second and final day of the big ski trip of 2006. I was starting to feel more comfortable with my skiing ability and decided that this year I was going to do a black diamond run. My first non-Prairie ski hill black diamond ever! But I was still pretty scared for a variety of reasons. Here are three.

1. I am not that experienced of a skiier and maybe I am still not good enough.
2. People can seriously hurt themselves doing these things even if they are good enough. Case in point, my expert skiing friend who broke his back last year.
3. I seem to have developed a fear of heights due to my recent mountain climbing experience.

So I hummed and haaed about it and finally the last run of the day was at hand. I stood with my friend Tim atop a hill called Bubbles. It was decent length of a run (but the bottom was still visible - just far) loaded with moguls and was nice and steep. The name Bubbles does not instantly inspire great fear I'm sure, but it was much scarier than it sounded. We are talking "bubbles" of snow and ice and rock. The kind of bubbles that would much sooner cause me to pop than I they. Tim looked at me for my decision and I am shamed to say that I chickened out. I started thinking about how the first and the last runs of the day are the most dangerous and I decided to put aside my pride and give into my fear and leave the hill black diamondless (Well, at least in my opinion - I had done a couple super super short black runs so short they are barely there).

But then it was number 23 that foiled me (it is the run on the bottom right hand side - you totally could not see the bottom of that one). I thought we were still on the green number 10 run that zigzags across the hill but we'd gone off on the blue that ends up with nowhere to go but out of bounds or down the black. Tim announced that I was going to do my black run after all. We took it slow and I was actually really pleased with myself. It was fun and I am glad I had to do it.

And so I send out warm wishes to Number 23, aka Race Place. I shall forever remember you as my first truly black and very diamondish ski run. Thanks for the good times.