The ski lift swayed back and forth, over a patch of evergreens. It was stopped over the middle of the ski course. I had hoped that the ski lift would be stuck all day. I ran out of luck, only 30 seconds after the lift stopped, it started up again. The short lift ride was over when the instructor raised the safety bar on the lift so that we could get off. We silently gathered the class at the beginning the the green circle course. Lower East Meadows, the ski course, was the easiest on Bromley Mountain in Vermont, yet butterflies still swarmed in my stomach.
My class began down the first slope like ducks in a line. I tried to go slowly, but, since it was my first time down a slope this steep, I got out of control, fell down and, rolled away. I thought I wouldn’t make it and that I would be stuck up there, on East Meadows, as a popsicle for the rest of winter. The majority of my class followed my example. As the slope flattened out to the degree I was used to, the butterflies in my stomach lessened. We While we slowly skied along the smooth snow, my instructor made a sharp turn towards a ski trail in the woods. My classmates and I struggled to do the same, but ended up shuffling to the trail. It was narrow path and my small, 6 year old legs struggled to keep my skis from hitting the trees.
We followed the instructor out of the path. I smiled when I saw that we we were still on flat part. We continued along the flat area, I glanced to my right and saw a long steep slope. I was relieved that I didn’t have to go down that slope. I barely made it down the first slope.
“Skiers, I want you to make wide zig-zags,” the instructor explained “ This will help you on the steeper areas of the course.”
My class slowly zig-zagged along the course. Ahead of me I saw the that course grew mildly steep. For a class of beginners, it was too steep. The butterflies came back and I wanted to cry. I saw my classmates looking nervous as well. I almost felt frozen tears run down my face when our instructor started talking. The instructor noticed that we struggled on the first slope. He explained some little tricks to help us along the slope. I thought he was going to say something like ‘Man up’, but instead he said something more supportive.
“When I say, Pizza, I want you to turn both skis inward, this will help you slow down,” my instructor shouted “ when I say, French Fries, I want you to make your skis parallel, this will help you control yourself and go faster. When I say, Popcorn, I want you to hop, this doesn’t matter other than to have fun.”
The butterflies in my stomach vanished, and I had fun skiing. The snow was packed and fluffy so when we fell, it didn’t hurt. I did fall a couple of times, but it didn’t matter because I was skiing, the right way. Wow, I thought, skiing really is fun,when you know how to. I was proud of myself, when we got to the bottom. The other kids were too. I had conquered East Meadows on Bromley Mountain in Vermont. Of course since I was 6, I thought I could take on the whole mountain, even the black diamonds and double black diamonds, which are the hardest kinds of courses.
I still use those tricks when I ski now. I always remember to keep my skis in the french fry position, when I’m skiing and I want to go fast. If the snow is icy, I remember ‘pizza’, so that I don’t go too fast. When I’m on a terrain course and I go over the jumps, I use ‘popcorn’, for fun. Who knew some small gesture towards me from age 6 would help me later in life?