I ran into a tree yesterday.
It wasn't a big, dramatic thing, but the end result was that it looked like I was hugging the tree from the side, while desperately trying to keep my feet under me and not fall over. And of course, the camera was present so we have visual records. Not that I mind: it was very amusing. The really funny thing was that I realized afterward that if I had not run into the tree, I would probably have made another turn and skied off a cliff.
Yesterday was also remarkable because of the high winds toward the end of the day. We decided to take one last run on the Thunder chair and then realized halfway up that that might not have been the best idea after all. The wind was blowing so hard that snow from the Egg-Carton run below the chair was blasted up in our faces, and the chair was slowed down to prevent the cables from bouncing off the set track. Then it was stopped while we were in the middle of a very exposed area, with wind blasting snow all over the place. My face was crusted with ice and snow when we got off. When we did get off, it was very hard to ski because the ground looked like a lovely seething ocean of blown snow--har har. As I told my dad, the wind wasn't just blustering; it was throwing a full-blown fit (haha).
This afternoon my dad tried to ski Corbet's again. Before he had to make the turn into the main body of the run, he was was acting as though it were nothing.... Isabel went first with no problems, and then he went in and did just what I was afraid of doing two days ago. He had a ski caught above the turn-notch and one loose below, and tried to turn quickly. Instead of achieving the desired result, he hit the west wall, flipped over, and was sent flying head-first down the chute for about thirty feet. One ski remained at the top so he had to climb up the fifty-degree slope and get it before meeting me and my mom at the bottom. As the saying goes: pride goeth before a fall--or a wall, for that matter.
**No one was hurt in the making of this post or its contents.**