I’ve written before about my first experience skiing. I hated it, though I later learned to tolerate skiing, and even to enjoy it when the base was deep, the weather above freezing, and the skies clear.
By contrast, my daughter couldn’t wait for her first time skiing. I think she was about five.
There is a small ski area called Snow Creek in Weston, Missouri, near Kansas City (a region not known for its mountains). It’s only about a 40-minute drive from our house. The snowfall is spotty, and they have to make much of their snow, so the season is unpredictable.
My son’s Cub Scout troop scheduled an outing to Snow Creek one January or February weekend day many years ago. Our family signed up to participate. For a reasonable fee, the Scouts and their siblings could get lessons, which were scheduled for about 9:00 a.m., then they could use the slopes for the rest of the day.
I can’t remember if our daughter was old enough for a ski lesson, but she was determined to ski. My husband was willing to shepherd her on the baby slope, and I knew he could tote her around if need be.
But the night before the ski session, our daughter came down with the stomach flu. Or something equally noxious. She was sick most of the night, and neither she nor I got much sleep.
In the morning, I told her she couldn’t go skiing. She wailed. And continued to sniffle as my husband and our son took off for the slopes around 8:00 a.m.
Young daughter was not sick again through mid-morning, though she looked a little pale. “Please, Mommy. Please, can’t we go skiing,” she whined.
Finally, I told her, “If you eat some cereal and toast and keep it down until noon, we’ll go up for the afternoon.”
She nodded emphatically. “I can do it.”
She ate her breakfast and kept it down. To this day, I don’t know whether her success was due to true recuperation or whether it was simply her willpower. She’s always been pretty tough.
And so at noon, we bundled up. Jackets, boots, scarves, hats, gloves. I drove us to Snow Creek, and we found her father. We rented her a kids’ ski package, and off she and her father went. I don’t recall any lessons being involved, but she careened her way down the hill. She fell some, but at five years old, she didn’t have far to fall.
I also can’t recall if I rented skis or not—I might have let her father take total responsibility. After all, I’d been up most of the night with her. I do remember sitting in the lodge with other parents. And I remember our daughter’s beaming face at the end of the day.
Many years later, our daughter became a good skier. She’s probably the best skier in the family now.
Despite her prowess, she is also the only member of the family to have broken any bones skiing. Despite her 2013 injury at Whistler, she is back skiing again—both downhill and cross-country. She has bought herself skis for both methods.
And this month, she tried back-country skiing for the first time. As I said, she’s pretty tough. And maybe a little foolhardy.
What were your kids’ sporting interests growing up?
