Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Vancouver? Maybe not. But bunny hill? Yes.

So I'm not an Olympic-caliber skier (yet) but I did survive my first runs down some greens (and accidental blues) out here in Tahoe. Success.

Yes, Zac and I are back on the Mainland. Oh, how I have missed you, my sweet, sweet Mainland. We arrived at the San Francisco airport late on the 17th and we headed up to South Lake Tahoe Friday morning. I am not a skier by trade. At least downhill/Alpine. I've done a little bit of cross-country/Nordic skiing before, but I've never thrown myself down a hill on skis. Zac has been skiing a few times out in Colorado with his brother and he loves it. When we decided that we would be visiting Zac's sister outside of Oakland for Christmas this year he decided we needed a few days of skiing up in the Lake Tahoe region. He planned the whole excursion, and I am proud to say he's done a helluva job putting together a vacation for us. (Well, except the losing money at roulette table part, but that was really beyond his control. Evil wheel of doom.)

We stayed in a casino on the Nevada side of South Lake Tahoe. Apparently there are numerous ski resorts scattered around the Lake. Maybe 15 or so? Most of them are up toward the Northwest corner of the lake and we were on the south shore so we usually had to drive anywhere from 20-40 minutes to get somewhere. The drive wasn't bad except for the super-scary switchbacks that dictate 10 mph and kind of make you want to poop the first time you drive on them. (After the first time you kind of cruise through them. And that was with me, Miss Defensive Driver operating the car.) We lucked out and had great weather and didn't have to use the snow chains for our tires - until today, but we're not to today yet.

On Friday we left Zac's sister's house and drove up I80 to Travis Air Force Base to rent ski gear. Once we loaded up the car we made our way to our hotel/casino/home base of Montbleu. Saturday morning we got up and headed to a place called Homewood. We picked our ski locations based on the discounts they provide to active duty military (and sometimes family members). Homewood has the most generous policy by far. I highly recommend it for anyone active duty who wants to take the family skiing. We signed me up for an all-day ski lesson so I could learn what to do while Zac spent the day reacquainting himself with skiis. (This also was suggested to us to save our marriage - one spouse trying to teach the other spouse how to ski apparently has almost ended marriages.)

I was nervous for a few reasons. Falling down isn't high on my list of things I like to do. Also, I was afraid that my teacher would be some teenage, X-Games-wannabe who was only interested in looking attractive to the opposite sex in their uber-trendy winter gear, noshing on chili fries in the chalet and who only worked there so they could snowboard for free. Luckily, I was very wrong. Because Homewood is a smaller resort, it has less people traffic which means I was in a class of two students taught by an exemplary teacher named Laura. (Who was not a teenager, but more of a snow-loving/live-to-teach/women's-power type - loved her!) I started the day not being able to do much, but by the end of the day I did two runs on my first (very short) green. Zac was pleased beyond words that I had conquered my fear and kicked a tiny bit of tail. Laura was so cool that she said that if we came back to Homewood on Monday, she'd come over (her day off) and spend another hour or two with me to refine my skills for free. Loved, loved her.

Sunday we headed to another resort, Sierra-at-Tahoe. The tops of my feet and the lower fronts of my shins were destroyed from the ski boots of the day before and I could hardly walk, more or less attempt skiing. So I sat in the chalet with my book and some coffee while Zac spent the morning hitting the slopes. We were both happy. Monday we decided to head back to Homewood, but I decided not to call Laura because Zac said he was willing to tackle the longer greens with me. The ones that start at the top of the mountain! Ack! While I have much to learn about the art of getting off the damn ski lift, 0-3 in my attempts, I had a blast. After the first run that is.

My first run down the hill scared the bejeezus out of me. It looked sooooo steep and I couldn't believe that the runs were green. (Green=easy, blue=moderate, black=hard, double black=we'll meet you at the bottom with a neck brace and snowmobile.) But Zac was my trusty navigator and we eventually made it down the mountain after more than a little freaking out by me.

Now, to set the scene, whenever we drive anywhere and we don't know where we're going I navigate. Apparently there is a reason for this. Maybe because Zac is a terrible navigator. I did not realize how terrible until Monday. Because when we got to the end of the run and up to the chalet, where I was sucking down a hot chocolate in an attempt to calm my nerves, we looked at the map and we realized that Zac had led me down two blue runs and totally missed the green run we wanted. On one hand I wanted to beat him about the head with a ski pole, on the other I was grateful that I knew I could make it down a blue run without dying a terrible death and was keen on taking on a green. But I would navigate this time.

We went back up the mountain, wind blowing, snow pelting, lips chapping, and headed down a green. We went about halfway down and then took another lift up to an even higher point and headed all the way down. It was awesome! Yes, my form is not great. Yes, I wiped out spectacularly a couple (many) times, but we did it. Zac was patient and gracious and a great sport about hanging out on the greens with me. We finished the day sopping wet from the snow/sleet and headed back to the casino and the hot tub for a victory soak. And then, to top off an already amazing day, it snowed. Beautiful, big, wet snowflakes fell for hours. I have never been to happy to see the while stuff fall.

Today, as I type this, I am sitting in an Irish pub in Squaw Valley. I'm sore from yesterday and my feet/ankles are burning again. No skiing for me. But I am enjoying a Smithwick's while Zac takes in a few more runs before we head back to the Bay Area this afternoon. (They have free wi-fi here. Score!) We had 4-8 inches of snow last night in the area and we had to put the snow chains on the tires in order to get here. That worried me a little, as I have no experience with chains and assumed that meant that the roads were practicably impassible. Wrong. As we were driving along the winding roads through the snow-covered pines I thought to myself, "This must be what Heaven looks like." Breathtaking.

Once Zac finds me in the pub we'll head back to Travis, drop off the gear, head back to his sister's, change clothes and then head down to visit a couple of family friends for supper. Tomorrow Zac's folks arrive and then Christmas has officially begun. And it continues (for me) til until at least the 27th. I'm anticipating that this is going to be one of the best holiday seasons ever. I got to spend a fantastic time in Lake Tahoe with my husband and we get to celebrate with both families. (I do, at least.) I couldn't be happier right now.

Did I mention I'm surrounded by snow?


SNOW! (Go on. Visit the link. It will make you smile.)

1 comment:

JoyceR said...

Girl, if you can scuba dive, skiing is a piece of cake. You don't have to learn to breathe underwater!