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B(l)ack on the Slopes

April 9, 2008

This past weekend was our work’s annual ski weekend. We went to Flims / Laax again which is where I twisted my knee last year and ended up on forearm crutches…

So, this was my first time back on the slopes since my little accident in Innsbruck. Everyone kept asking me if I was going to ski and I said of course. I didn’t see what the big deal was because my accident didn’t happen while I was actually skiing. To me, there was a difference. This was all fine in my head. When we got off the ski lift, it was another story. I was much more apprehensive and tense than I expected. I made it down fine, but I just couldn’t relax.  Josh and I were skiing with Deb & Jean-Philippe and we all decided to go to the highest peak which was Vorab Gletscher at 3’018 meters (9’900 feet) and ski all the way down.

Well, we made it part of the way up and the lift we were going for was closed for the day.  So, we had to make a small detour which took us to a yellow slope. I had no idea what this meant. It’s a freeride area. This means that the snow is very deep and fluffy and there’s not really a marked path. There is a path in that there are polls telling you the boundaries but it’s not the same as a normal slope. I fell immediately which wasn’t that big of a deal since it was really very soft and fluffy. The problem was that I couldn’t get up. I finally had to take my skis off and the snow came up past my knees. Then I couldn’t get the skis back because of how deep the snow was! Eventually we made it down but I was so incredibly tense that I hardly enjoyed myself.

Then came the biggest surprise of all.  The bottom of the yellow slope met up with a black slope. This is the most level and I was in no mood to go down this. I was already tired from going down the yellow and just wanting to take it easy. However, we had no choice. I’m happy to report that Josh and I made it down our first black slope and are still alive to tell about it. Although it was not by choice, we can still say that we have done it.

We didn’t ski much longer after that because we were exhausted. Instead, we met up with some friends from work for the Après ski and had a few drinks while we waited for dinner. Our dinner was in a cute little restaurant on one of the slopes. We were all looking forward to the fondue but were all disappointed because it was the worst fondue ever. Seriously. I’m no fondue expert, but this was just not good.

Anyways, to show my inside age, I must tell you that we met for the Après ski at Crap Sogn Gion. Come on, that’s funny. Crap is the word for ‘peak’ in the local dialect, so basically everything was crap this and crap that. We took the crap lift.

I really wanted to go to the crap bar but we never made it.

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