Ski Weekend...

So I spent the past weekend in Southern California playing. We have meetings Tuesday up in Stockton for Aisin and I figured since I was headed out here anyway I might as well have some fun. We zipped up to Snow Valley on Saturday so I could start small. "Zipped" isn't really correct - it's about 2 hours. Whatever, it wasn't like we were scooting around this mountain road that had a sheer, steep, amazingly high cliff off of one side (driver's side for most of the way up, thank you). Wasn't scary at all....maybe. Either way, once up at the top - 140 turns closer than the actual Big Bear Lake and resorts, we commenced shusshing around on some snow. Had a blast.

Had some quality assholes & elbows runs, where things would go great and then all of a sudden I couldn't ski 10 yds without flailing and falling. Of course, these increased as I got more tired. I think there were only 2 real disastrous runs total though.

Headed up to Snow Summit (part of Big Bear - 140 turns FURTHER up that treacherous mountain torture) on Sunday for Day 2. Crawling out of bed (the Motel 6 up at Big Bear isn't a bad place...really) I could have told you that there were new muscles already on my body. My left butt cheek doesn't take kindly to being the main point of impact for my body - and I apparently grip the poles with the third finger of both hands the hardest. Hilarious.

We grabbed some coffee and headed up on the hill for Day 2. Snow Summit is much bigger than Snow Valley, with a wide array of terrain. Gar and I spent most of the day in the section classified as the "Family Fun Park"....or something like that. I think it's all green, fairly easy and really laid back with some decent spots and one fairly decent pitch. What he doesn't tell me ahead of time is that to get back down to the lodge I'm going to have to go down the scariest set of pitches ever...at least in my mind. I was too scared throughout this whole process to take pictures of it. That would have meant moving, which could have shifted my weight and sent me plummeting down these stupid hills.

For all that everyone thinks I'm crazy, fearless, gung-ho and a bit of a dare-devil, they've clearly never seen me ski. Apparently I have an "oh shit" button that flips in my mind when I'm looking down a fairly steep hill. I become a total pansy and overthink everything and get way uptight. I know (because I've proven it) that I'm not going to go screaming down the hill and break things, worst-case scenario I slide on something or other and get snow down my pants (again). Either way...it was hilarious and I had a blast. It got up to almost 60 both days, meaning the snow slushed up fairly bad (which, the first day, was a decent thing as I relaxed a bit and just went with the flow...Sunday, however, I got way uptight and started catching more edges and smooshing more snow up/down my clothing).

For all the fun that skiing was and eating GREAT Mexican up there, the drive down that stupid mountain is absolutely terrifying. Apparently I'm not the greatest passenger in a car anyway (ha), now take that car and send it hurtling downward from about 6,000ft. While you're at it, throw some really sharp curves into the road, some really steep drop offs (yeah, driver's side on the way up...scary as hell when you can't see the bottom on the way down and it's right outside your window). Apparently if I hold on to the roof of the car, scrunch down into a ball and/or curl possessively around the center console with my thumb in my mouth - my chances of survival increase. Oh, and the reassuring part, "Most of the cars that do tumble off the side of these cliffs get stuck in trees only about 100ft. or so down from the road." Thanks, Gar, really. Nevermind that rescuers would have to RAPPEL to get to you, and that there's another 300ft drop that spindly, little Cedar sapling is protecting my ass from. But good on ya there, thanks for that pointer! I don't know who Kathleen is, but she drives a fairly old 4Runner that now needs new brakes. I'm pretty sure I could have done a better job of driving that road than she did, crying, sniveling and all. I survived the drive by the grace of Gar's camera, with my hand randomly held out the window (wrist strap on) snapping photos of the descent.

Waiting on a flight to NorCal now for the meetings tomorrow. Desperately looking forward to a good dinner and good wine and sleeping like the dead (again). What a blast of a weekend. Some practice closer to home and I'll show Snow Summit who's boss - and go show that 4 year old that schooled me down that hill who's the big girl after all!"

Make a pizza" my ass.