Story: I've been inspired by the Winter Olympics to pour some extra aggression into my skiing, though, at age 63, they won't let me compete. So this past gloriously sunny Sunday, I was all confident and cocky when I dropped off the ridge into Two Bowl. My first three or four turns were fine and plenty fast for an oldster. Then I found myself on my back, sliding and turning helplessly, like an upside-down turtle. When I rolled my feet to the downhill side to try to recover, I was going too fast, so just touching the skis to the snow popped them off. I was picking up speed on the slick, spring-like surface. There was no stopping my tumbling fall.
As I fell, like Alice down the rabbit hole, I had time to ponder my plight. One thought was, uh oh, this could turn bad. I’m not young and rubbery any more. Another thought was, what a waste of a good run. A final thought was, don't get tangled in your poles. I let my arms fall to the sides and the poles departed. Unencumbered by gear, I relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the slide to the bottom.
I stood up and realized I wasn't hurt a bit. I looked at the scattered gear strewn all down the slope and marveled at the distance I'd tumbled. Except for the sheer terror, it was exhilarating. I'll soon be back for more.
-- Constance Emerson Cooker
Meadows: We love it when a story has a happy ending. Sage advice from a hearty skier who knows how to hit the slopes, with and without her skis on!