Ski trip: At least I can say I've been

During Winter break, we ventured to the suburbs of Denver to visit my wife's sister and family. For five years, they have been trying to get us out there, and now that they may be moving back this way, we made a last minute decision to head West.

We took the buddy pass route and made it out by the skin of our teeth. Getting back was even tighter as we squeezed onto the 1:20 a.m. departure. Getting on a plane to and from ski country is a challenge by itself.

We spent a couple of afternoons at Eldora Ski Resort. My son Jonathan was able to snow ski for the first time. He caught on pretty fast. I spent most of my afternoon on my backside. I couldn't get my ankles to cooperate, my brakes wouldn't work, and bunny slope speed was too fast for me. I've got a lot of work to do if I'm going to master the slopes.
I was reflecting on my experience, and several lessons for life came to mind.

Skiing isn't as easy as it looks. If you really want to learn, you must invest the money in a lesson, and then invest the time to work at it. You can't master it in one afternoon. Life is like that. Progress takes time and we learn from experience. And if you want to be good at something, you have to pay the price.

You can expect to fall. Life is full of ups and downs. It's how you handle the falls that makes the difference.

We need to give a hand to those who are down. Several times, I saw fellow skiers stop and help the fallen get back on their feet. Kindness and consideration go a long way.

When we fall, it's nice to have someone come along and pull us up. Don't be too proud to take another's help when it's offered sincerely.

Timing is important. Catching that moving ski lift is an art. Knowing when to get on is one matter; getting off is a different subject altogether. It's all a matter of timing.

Keeping your sense of humor is essential. I was getting pretty frustrated. As I struggled, the three- and four-year-olds were breezing by me. All I could do was laugh and shake my head. Maybe one of these days . . .

I heard about a group on a ski trip in Utah. They had been skiing for awhile when they decided to move to another slope. They got into line for the lift when one of the women needed a bathroom break. Her husband told her not to worry, that surely there was a “powder room” at the top of the mountain. He was wrong, of course, and this woman couldn't wait. The panic button kicked in.

So, with time running out, the woman weighed her options. She decided to do the only thing possible, and that was excuse herself to the nearby tree line. She was wearing white, which would surely provide adequate camouflage. She found a safe spot, lowered her ski pants, and found relief. However, she forgot she was on the side of a slope and failed to position her skis correctly to keep her stable.

The next thing she knew, she slipped and, without warning, found herself skiing backwards down the mountain, out of control, racing through trees, somehow missing them and ending up on another slope full of skiers. Her bare bottom was sticking out, her pants were around her knees, and she was picking up speed.

Shrieking as she went, she created an unusual vista for other skiers. The woman sped back under the lift and finally collided violently with a pylon. She laid there in a daze with a broken arm until the ski patrol arrived and transported her to the hospital.

While in the emergency room, a man with an obviously broken leg was rolled into the hallway where she was sitting, waiting to be examined.

Making small talk, she asked, “How did you break your leg?”

“It was the craziest thing you ever saw,” he began. “I was riding up this ski lift and suddenly I couldn't believe my eyes. There was this crazy woman skiing backwards out of control, down the mountain, with her bare bottom sticking out and her pants down around her knees. I leaned over to get a better look and fell out of the ski lift and broke my leg.

“So, tell me, how did you break your arm?”

We didn't see anything quite that wild, but at least I can say I've been.