Monday, December 1, 2008

Maturt Mondays, Week Two... Another Example Of Sterling Maturtity

Several years ago we spent Christmas in Ruidoso, New Mexico and it snowed something like 7 feet the first two days we were there. While Mr. Snoots stayed at the cabin and watched football on TV, Snooty Daughter and I took advantage of the Steep And The Deep up at the Ski Apache Ski Area, which is located about 35 miles away. Straight up the mountain.


I am proud to say that I raised both of my children to be good, strong skiers. When they were growing up, we spent a good two weeks per year skiing. Okay, I'll admit that for the basics I sent them to ski school. But hey - it was my vacation too. As they increased their skills, I paid for them to have private lessons and before long they were leaving me behind, which was slice of pure Heaven.



My big Christmas present this particular year was a *Bugzilla* which is actually an earth friendly way of capturing and disposing of spiders and any other thing that it will suck up. I use it often, to this day. Mr. Snoots was so proud of this gift. *sigh*





Ahem... Back to my story. So SD and I were skiing for our third day and the snow was amazingly crisp and light, and it was just gorgeous weather. SD was absolutely smoking me down every single run. It was like we had suddenly changed roles, and I suppose I wasn't quite ready for the switch. I thought it was supposed to happen when you could no longer keep from wetting your pants, or your bed or something. Gah! I kept insisting we take intermediate (blue) runs and she was adamant about going down expert (black) trails, which I had, of course, raised she and her brother on. Well, almost. She finally turned around (while skiing) and said "Mom, what is Wrong With You? I've never seen you ski so slow!".


I nearly tripped over my jaw as it was dragging the hard packed snow. Say What? So, being the maturt parent that I am, I said "Who are you calling slow? Moi? Then you can just eat my snow." With that brilliant remark, I was off chasing my youth once again and SD was still gaining on me. We arrived back at the lift at exactly the same time, so that was a draw.


Riding back to the top of the mountain in the gondola, SD suggested that we try the Ski Patrol's secret *Powder Glade*, which was not in any way "Out Of Bounds". It was located just off a named, marked run, through the trees. There were no ropes, no flags, and no warnings posted anywhere, so I said "Let's Get It, Baby Girl. You. Are. On.".


As we made our ascent into the glade, I was astonished at the amount of powder. Apparently, the ski patrol had been too busy to give it many turns. Normally, any powder would be long gone. All I could think of was how lucky we were to be able to ski the run while it still had several feet of the fluffy white stuff. What Was I Thinking? Oh, that's right. I was thinking I was still young and in great shape. Again, what was I thinking?


SD took off as if she had been launched like a rocket, as I stood and watched the beautiful power and grace with which she skis. It was a poignant moment for me. It was almost like seeing myself again, as I once had been when I lived in Aspen so many years ago. Before I knew it, she had dropped over the crest and disappeared from sight. I suddenly found myself alone in the glade.


No Problem! So, I turned to face the fall line of the mountain and shoved off. The only glitch was that I'd forgotten you do not use your edges in the deep stuff and I was promptly tossed on my ass nose, without prior notification. Covered in snow, I thought "Screw This! I'm going to traverse over to the hard pack and beat her smart little bootay down the hill." So, I began my traverse across the glade, gaining speed as I went. Luckily, the temperatures has warmed a bit since the big snow, causing it to be a bit more grabby than I cared for, so I stopped.


It was at that very moment I happened to lean over, in order to see what the drop off was like. Well, I can tell you that it took my breath away. I was staring down at about a 200 100 foot drop off to the neighboring run. Had I not decided to stop, I'd probably be dead or an invalid for the rest of my life, which would not be good with my claustrophobia issues. I looked back toward the powder glade and realized I could no longer go down that way, as I had dropped down too much during my traverse. At that moment, I seriously began to panic. Hyperventilate even. Who was ever going to find me there until *Sweep*, which was four hours down the lane?


Then it hit me like a lead brick to the forehead. What if SD had eventually been faced with the same dilemma? What if she had gone flying, in all her glory, over the edge down a steep drop off? My angst gained momentum and I'm pretty certain that I could have used a brown paper bag to breathe into at that moment.


As I was trained to do, I stuck my skis into the snow, crossed, which is the universal signal for skier distress. I then went on to my own personal pity party, thinking no one would ever find me because the run I'd attempted to access was so much lower. If you look up or down while skiing, you will surely get tossed into a rolling snowball. Really. It's one of the first rules. How was anyone ever going to find me? Alright. Fine. I screwed up and the predicament I was in was entirely my own fault, which didn't really help my mind set.


My next maturt decision was to start bawling like a wee little babe. You know. Because it always helps so much. I honestly sat there thinking I was going to die. Right there. In that glade with the 200 100 foot drop off. I started to sob for some crazy reason. I just knew I no longer had the body strength to hike back up and I was too frightened to try going down. Yes, me. The Big Time Skier. Age can do that to you. You know what I mean. I was past that *bullet proof* stage in life. Waaaay past. So I Sat. And I waited.


After what seemed like hours (Fine. It was maybe twenty minutes, okay?) I noticed two skiers ripping down Apache Bowl, which was above me by several runs. I think that by the time I was trying to flag them down they had already figured out that I was in distress, so they traversed above me, to my approximate position. They found me wallowing in my self pity and tears, which was embarrassing enough. Both of them were college kids, about the same age as my daughter, so I could only imagine what they were thinking about me. (as in: this lady thinks she's on the Titanic, which is sinking... when she is clearly only lost & can't ski) Oh, Yeah. I knew what they were thinking alright.

By the time they finally talked me down the steep incline (one kid carrying my skis and the other with my poles) I was thanking them profusely. I think I also offered my daughter to them, in marriage. They couldn't get away from me fast enough. Luckily, I caught up with them and passed them, in a downhill tuck. The looks on their faces were priceless. Heh heh...



If you have a particularly maturt moment or so of your own, please feel free to join in. Misery loves company!

10 comments:

asthmagirl said...

Too funny, Snooty! I hate when maturity catches up with me like that! Great story!

Flea said...

You're so maturt, Snooty! I try not to remember my maturtity stories. :)

brneyedgal967 said...

LMFAO!

Offer your daughter in marriage... had a snort over that one. And the downhill tuck, the look on their faces---HOOOOahahahahahah! That's exactly what I sounded like.

Yeah, not very maturt here either, but you already knew that.

Definitely sistah from anotha motha.

Mental P Mama said...

I think you wear your maturtity with much good grace;) We should all take note.

Janie said...

Girlfriend - you always make me laugh!

Lunch on the 8th! Save the date! Get out of bed early enough to make it!

Treasia said...

Thanks for sharing your maturt story today Snooty. Only because misery loves company will I share mine with you.

Several years ago, I think I may have been about 33, in my mind I was still early 20's at this point. My second husband and some of our friends got together to go to a rock quarry to just look around. We knew inside the quarry there was a crystal mine filled with crystals of course. This place had been closed for years and had NO Trespassing signs posted all around. Like I said, we thought we were kids. So off we go. After exploring for several hours it was time to go home. The rest of the bunch decided to take a shortcut back. this short cut was up the side of a mountain. This is the day I learned I was terrified of heights!! I got about halfway up the side and made the mistake of looking down to see how far I had come. Big mistake. I stopped right there and froze to the side and cried for what seemed like hours. It was probably minutes. The others had to talk me the rest of the way up and some came back down to help me. Now mind you we were so maturt we had no ropes or climbing gear. Yeah we were very maturt.

QueenofPlanetHotflash said...

I am rarely Maturt I seem to have missed out on this gene. Even my kids will tell me they are more maturt than I am, they are also more anal I tell them lmao
Great story snooty :o)

Meg said...

Love skiing in Ruidoso, it's been a while...! I am afraid of heights and the very first time my ex took me skiing in RUIDOSO at Apache Bowl, I had to come down with the ski patrol! It was so awful laying there plastered to the side of the mountain afraid to get up as the "little" kids went past me WITHOUT poles! Ugh! Suffice it to say, I love skiing still, but I stay at the bottom until I get a couple of Margs in me...then and only then can I manage to go all the way to the top!

LOVED this story Snooty...I don't think I am ever going to grow up...

noble pig said...

OMG was your daughter freaking out wondering where you were? I loved that you passed them though, so perfect.

Heather said...

Too funny--since you survived and all! My brother was skier and I a figure skater in my younger life. I was a decent skier, but not like him. We went to Lake Placid right after the Olympics and I cried all the way down the icy mountain in a snow plow position. I proceed to head to the bunny hill.

 

Blog Designed by: NW Designs