A Nasty Turn

At my suggestion, Dad and I planned a ski trip to Snowbowl in Flagstaff. I bet it was 10 years ago that either of us went skiing. The last trip was probably Isaac’s traditional 12th birthday ski trip with dad. With Snowbowl having an unusually good season we decided to take advantage while we are still young. Ha, ha, ha.

An early departure got us to Snowbowl shortly after they opened. We stood in the usual lines to proclaim our skiing expertice level (a number 1 out of 3), advertise our height and weight, then struggle into the boots and then clump out of the building carrying all other necessary equipment and accessories. We managed to do this without losing one glove or hat.

Our first run of the day was on “bunny hill”. We clumsily made our way to the line and awaited our turn on the 2-seater. After some brief instructions about boarding the lift we managed to get airborne.

The ride up was great! The sky was a deep beautiful blue with not a cloud in sight. The wind was still and the sun was shining with a forecast high of 38º. We couldn’t have ordered a more perfect day. The ground had a snow base of 68” or so. It had snowed the previous week so there shouldn’t be any spots of ice. The trees were green and bushy with the branches holding multiple pillows of white puffy snow. Just a beautiful sight!

At the top we exited without incident. (This is where the story takes a nasty turn.) We took the gentle loop to the right. Giving us ample time to brush up on the subtleties of gliding forward, snow plowing to slow and stop, and keeping those darned poles out of our way and at the ready. Ready or not the only way now was down. After the gentle loop (100 yards or so) things got a little steeper and another trail merged with ours. We forged ahead. Dad seemed a little more cautious than I was. But he was doing fine –until he spied some speedy skiers or boarders streaking down the hill towards us. He PANICKED. (Remember the show Lost in Space – the robot would wobble around arms flailing and yelling Danger! Danger! Danger!) He made a quick turn to the left leaving him only a narrow channel in which to negotiate another turn. Failing that second turn would place him in and among the above mentioned trees. A nasty crash ensued. Body parts started flipping and rolling stirring up a mist of snow into the air. There were also poles and skiis going every which way. I was behind and saw the whole episode and was heading over to dad’s rescue. Amazingly a couple of the speedy snowboarders slowed down and asked if everything was OK. To which Dad answered that he was indeed OK. That turned out to be a little white lie. He told me that he hurt his leg but that he would see if he could continue skiing. Needless to say that little incident made him very cautious and his hurting right calf even slowed him down more. But being the trooper that he is – he kept skiing the whole day until closing time.

Sometime after dad’s spectacular crash we decided to split up. Not permanently. He decided to stay on the GREEN slope. I decided to rub shoulders with the BLUE skiers. We each made a couple of runs after which we would meet up at the lodge and get some lunch. That was accomplished without problem. We shared a chicken strip and fries for lunch.

We continued to ski solo with the hope of meeting up for the last few runs on the GREEN slope. I made it over to Dad’s stomping grounds and with only a short wait we were again ski partners. Dad decided that we could go up to the top and then take a new run that would take us to the other ski lift and onto a BLUE trail. So we did that. All the while I tried to explain that it was very doable for him. It might be steeper but it was plenty wide to make turns. The lift exit was a bit steeper – I explained this to Doug fully. The problem? The snow boarders in front of us had a shaky exit and they were blocking most of the center part of the exit. We both decided to veer to the extreme left and made it by without problem. The seat right after us was snow boarders and they too had a terrible exit. The entire ramp was now cluttered with people and their snow boards. We squeaked by just in time.

There was a long path to the beginning of the Log Jam run. I was ahead of Doug. When I got to the drop off point I waited. I would let Doug go first. But we had to look up the slope and make sure nobody was barreling towards us at supersonic speed. While I waited I saw a snowboarder off in the trees to the right of the path –just at the merge point. I thought “Great! This bozo is skiing out of boundaries and will be popping out right in front of Doug or myself. So I sort of kept my eyes over on his snowboard. He was leaning it forward and back but not sliding into our way. So Doug showed up and took off. I took one last look at this guy in the trees and he didn’t pop out in front of me – but as I took off I could see something else popping out of his snow pants. HE FLASHED ME! And it wasn’t his hind parts either. By that time I had started skiing and there was no way I could get back up there. I wish I hadn’t started and could have yelled at the guy and told the jerk to beat it!

Somewhere down the run a snowmobile approached. I tried to tell him about the incident. The old codger ignored me. I tried one more time to tell him about the man . . . . He said “I know!!!” And just interrupted my story and took off. He didn’t know what I was trying to tell him. Another jerk! Anyway, when we got to the next lift area and saw some workers who I told about the incident and the exact location. They seemed to enjoy the story. There was no shock. There was no high priority given to trying to remedy the situation. What is wrong with people these days? Sheesh!

Well that was basically our last run of the day. We got to the lockers and got out of the boots and turned all our equipment in. Of course dad was limping and his calf was hurting. I had a hot spot on my right calf. There was a seam on some long johns that was inside the boot and it was clamped tight all day. Even hours later at home there was a very red seam line down the inside of my calf and ankle. This morning that spot is lined with little blisters.

One stop in Flagstaff at Stromboli’s for dinner. The parking was kind of tight - dad made me get out and shovel out a parking spot we could fit into. He took a picture while I shoveled. We shared a salad and delicious calzone. Yummy!

One regret. We left home without our camera. So the only picture I have to document the trip (besides the one dad took on his cell phone) is this one of Dad in the recliner with his feet up – icing his leg. That’ll have to do.