Mardi Gras Break Essay

Skiing is not a simple endeavor and can take a long time to master. Last Mardi Gras break, I went on a ski trip to Steamboat, Colorado, with my dad and my step-mom’s family. My dad and I had never been skiing before, but we were both eager to prove our natural athletic prowess. My dad, two months away from turning fifty, has seen better days when it comes to his physical state. He is not overly out of shape and had always been an athlete, so I assumed he would pick up skiing after some practice. Much to his dismay, my father showed me that no matter how hard I try to achieve something, factors that I cannot control may prohibit me from doing so. Leading up to our training, my dad and I were both rather cocky despite our having no experience to defend our view. However, once the lesson began, we were put in our place. Unable to maintain our balance on level ground, we slipped and fell, bruising not only our buttocks but also our egos. After a few minutes, we became more comfortable and regained our confidence.

I glided downhill on my blue and white skis as the cold mountain air filled my lungs. I repeated the drill, and my success sparked some self-confidence. However, my dad fell on his butt and proceeded to blame his equipment for the incident. Despite his failure, my dad progressed with the rest of the group to a longer, steeper slope. In order to ascend this long slope, we hopped on a black conveyor belt which took us to the top. The slope was long enough for nearly two hundred feet skiing which is enough time for a couple minor turns and ample practice at