Not such a bad idea, as it turned out. We bought season tickets for Squaw last spring during an amazing promotion that priced them at less than half what they are now. Something about opening and Olympic anniversaries. Thank goodness for the naked guy I chatted up in Travertine Hot Spring on the way home from Mammoth last year.
This is also Sophie's first year on ski team. Thank goodness for the MIL who generously funded that. And for the friend who is putting us up for the season at his significantly fabulous house overlooking the Late Tahoe in Incline. I'm trying to work it off though by doing things like fixing him rocking ski sandwiches and dinner every day, cleaning the house, and making his picky (but adorable) son Toaster Waffles.
A few highlights so far:
I was just happy he survived. Near the end of the afternoon, I received a transmission on my radio (some friends gave us those fancy ones like the ski patrol use for wedding presents years ago) that was NOT HUSBAND. Which is unusual because the radios have a squelch chip that minimizes most cross traffic. It was the ski patrol informing me that they had our other radio and would be skiing it down to KT-22. I waited there, and when it showed up inquired if there was a body accompanying it. There wasn't. And the body I was looking for did not answer its cell phone. It eventually showed up though, and I counted that as a little holiday miracle.
And speaking of holiday miracles . . . Husband got me a present that I totally loved! Kidding. Regular readers will recall his title of Mr. Gift. And indeed, he came through again. Realizing that I do not need any more stuff (well, not really), he gave me an afternoon of skiing with a private coach. Which I totally needed.
I skied the afternoon with the little sis of Olympic champion Julia Mancuso, Sara. Although I was sure at first that this was a terrible mistake. Instead of the gentle middle-age woman I thought I would be meeting, I was faced with a gum-snapping, smart mouthed hipster less than half my age. Who skied like a friggin rocket. But by the end of two hours, I was sold. Fact is the girl rocks. She gave me just the (actually quite gentle) butt-kicking I needed: weight forward, poles out front, shoulders downhill. All the stuff I know but do but do poorly once I get off the groomers. But what we really liked was her ass-kicking confidence. She knows she rocks too, and as the mother of a daughter, you've got to love that. Ski team is on a half day today, so after lunch, she is skiing with Sophie.
Speaking of whom . . . She is rocking her ski team, and is right in the middle of her Big Mountain Team, keeping up with all the locals and kids who have come through the Squaw Mighty Mites program since they could walk. She's out skiing her tenth day in a row (unlike me, who after getting up at 6:30 to make lunches and send them off crawled back to bed to read for three hours). She didn't get to ski with Jonny Mosely, but she did take a header down his Chute 75.
Right there down the middle. It's steeper than it looks here, and there are more rocks since it's early in the season. She hit some slippery near the top, lost it, and slid down head first sans skis and pole most of the run until a kind man reached out and caught her. Husband and our friend, usually unflappable about this sort of thing, were slightly flapped. I'm still kind of nauseous thinking about it. Sara probably has her up there right now.
A few highlights so far:
Husband spent the other afternoon skiing with Olympic shredboy Jonny Moseley! Really!! On scheduled days Moseley shows up at the top of the Funitel to ski with anyone who's up for it. I settled for just waving shyly as I deposited Husband into his hands. The idea is that they start off on easy stuff (of course at completely ridiculous speeds) and then progress, with the group diminishing as they go. They started off at about twenty; at the end it was Jonny and five. Husband (considerably older than Jonny, as I kept pointing out) hung in there until the end, which was a few runs down Jonny's Run, Chute 75 off KT-22. They road a few chairs together, chatted it up, and Husband picked up a few tips.
I was just happy he survived. Near the end of the afternoon, I received a transmission on my radio (some friends gave us those fancy ones like the ski patrol use for wedding presents years ago) that was NOT HUSBAND. Which is unusual because the radios have a squelch chip that minimizes most cross traffic. It was the ski patrol informing me that they had our other radio and would be skiing it down to KT-22. I waited there, and when it showed up inquired if there was a body accompanying it. There wasn't. And the body I was looking for did not answer its cell phone. It eventually showed up though, and I counted that as a little holiday miracle.
And speaking of holiday miracles . . . Husband got me a present that I totally loved! Kidding. Regular readers will recall his title of Mr. Gift. And indeed, he came through again. Realizing that I do not need any more stuff (well, not really), he gave me an afternoon of skiing with a private coach. Which I totally needed.
I skied the afternoon with the little sis of Olympic champion Julia Mancuso, Sara. Although I was sure at first that this was a terrible mistake. Instead of the gentle middle-age woman I thought I would be meeting, I was faced with a gum-snapping, smart mouthed hipster less than half my age. Who skied like a friggin rocket. But by the end of two hours, I was sold. Fact is the girl rocks. She gave me just the (actually quite gentle) butt-kicking I needed: weight forward, poles out front, shoulders downhill. All the stuff I know but do but do poorly once I get off the groomers. But what we really liked was her ass-kicking confidence. She knows she rocks too, and as the mother of a daughter, you've got to love that. Ski team is on a half day today, so after lunch, she is skiing with Sophie.
Speaking of whom . . . She is rocking her ski team, and is right in the middle of her Big Mountain Team, keeping up with all the locals and kids who have come through the Squaw Mighty Mites program since they could walk. She's out skiing her tenth day in a row (unlike me, who after getting up at 6:30 to make lunches and send them off crawled back to bed to read for three hours). She didn't get to ski with Jonny Mosely, but she did take a header down his Chute 75.
Right there down the middle. It's steeper than it looks here, and there are more rocks since it's early in the season. She hit some slippery near the top, lost it, and slid down head first sans skis and pole most of the run until a kind man reached out and caught her. Husband and our friend, usually unflappable about this sort of thing, were slightly flapped. I'm still kind of nauseous thinking about it. Sara probably has her up there right now. I can't figure out how to download pictures from my camera onto this laptop, but if I could I could show you the largest icicle ever hanging outside our bedroom window or the tree Husband and I lifted from Incline's tree recycling. Can you believe people up here buy these really expensive ginormous trees and then dump them the very next day?? Can you believe we think this works really well for people like us who really don't give a rip about the holiday but have a bunch of kids who do?
Happy New Year. I fully subscribe to that holiday as long as I don't have to get out of my yoga pants and go to a fancy party. And it's a good time to give thanks to my blog community. It has been a great year, and you have all made it richer. Thank you.
6 comments:
Happy New Year, Cindy! The skiing sounds amazing... So jealous. ;-)
Happy new year! It sounds like y'all are having a fabulous holiday!
A great way to end the year!
Great post, we too are knee deep into the racing up north. Smaller hills but no less serious. My 7 year old is ripping up the courses, must be following his big bros for the last five years. And the eldest is training for his first Downhill next week which I won't watch. Too scary.
Happy New Year Cindy! Sounds like Sophia is having a ball!
Happy New Year!! Sounds like a great way to finish off the decade!
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