This Ain't No Black Diamond....

What a difference a day makes.  Yesterday we were with blizzard conditions and wind chills at close to zero today was bluebird skies and 6-8 inches of fresh snow!

Jeff had to work, one was down for the count on sickness, so it was the three of us hitting first trax on the ski slopes.  Funny, how getting to that fresh powder is a life long ambition of many, with the first lift rides resembling a Who Concert of who's getting off and beating all the other skiers to the fresh snow.  I totally understood as I was in full sweat from getting to the top of a run and DANGIT, someone beat me to it.

Of course, you wish for it and sometimes if pays you back.  The snow was fresh and deep and as I had my first yardsale (the process by which a skier loses every part of their equipment in an epic wipeout) I realized this was so different from my icy skiing of Beech Mountain.  After making it down my first run (out of breath) I realized that I needed a few adjustments to my technique - specifically finding the groomed runs.

I go all morning with the boys, non stop until around noon when I am ready for a break and possibly a beer.  Of course, murphy's law, my husband calls and joyfully says, "I'm here, let's RIDE!"

Dayum.

They take me up to the top of the lift.  We get off on what resembles Morodor - or the Cliffs of Doom.  The rest of the family is excited, I however am looking around thinking, "It's a beautiful view, but how do we get down?"

My hubby answers my question, "Do the Double Black Diamond Kelly, everyone says it is an easy Black Diamond."

(Did I mention that Jeff heard this in the bar before coming to meet me, did I also mention that he didnt' tell me this before he took me up the lift)

So, I love testing my limits, but my Quads already hate me at this point from skiing all day, and as I stand at the top of a ledge looking down thinking, "OK, this ain't no black diamond."

My problem at this point:

I have no way to go but down.
I have to go to the bathroom so I cannot bust it on this one.
Everyone has already gone, am I going to be shown up by a 9 year old?

Unfortunately, I am committed.

It takes me 30 minutes.  A few wipeouts, a few turns that I am not proud of (one ski, holy shit type of moves) and I make it to the bottom with a deep breath.

Oh, what?

The only way down is this second double black diamond called,  "You'll Never Survive This One Kelly."  Another 30 minutes later, I am crawling over to the lift where the rest of the family is standing there looking annoyed.

"Where were you," they say, looking amazingly rested because they've been waiting for me for 20 minutes.

"Surviving," I get out as I almost fall over into the snow.

"Well, what are we waiting for - let's get going....."

Ugh.