I’ve done some scary things before and I always had the courage and motivation to do it, but this time, my courage abandoned me and just disappeared as if it was never there. It was a cool and chilly day, but the sun was shining hard at my favorite ski resort in Lake Tahoe in December. Crisp, white snow was delicately falling from the sky and it covered the ground like a blanket. But the luminous sun was melting the snow, making it wet and slippery. The trees on the side were towering but slender with dark, brown trunks and bright green leaves. I was wearing a cumbersome jacket and a helmet and I was starting to sweat a lot in the heat. There were tons of people in thick jackets carrying skis, poles, and snowboards milling around. I was in a lengthy line of people, all waiting to go on a ski lift. The lift led to a monstrously huge hill that I was about to ski on. Looking upon the huge hill, a great, enormous, mass of snow, I was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the hill. It was my first blue square course, an intermediate level. I felt thrilled, excited, scared, …show more content…
terrified, and overall extremely nervous. I was standing in line for the ski lift, a lift that stretched up into the sky beyond my sight. I nervously tapped my fingers against my leg. I was starting to sweat a lot, so I took off my goggles and wiped my head with my sleeve. I could feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach turning into pigeons. Little by little, I slowly moved closer toward the front of the line until I was in the very front. I waited a few moments until the operator cheerfully yelled, “Next!, Next six people step right up!”. It sounded like a death call to me–because it might be one. I shuffled forward and waited for the seat to come and when it was right behind me, I quickly sat down. The lift hummed and vibrated softly as it started its long journey up.
The ground moved farther away from me as I went higher up. I nervously swung my legs back and forth and placed my ski poles next to me. When I looked down, everyone looked like itsy-bitsy specks in the vast, white snow. Whoa…, I thought to myself, the sight made me feel disoriented. As I went up the lift shuddered, shook, and occasionally swung side to side which made me feel jitterish. I couldn’t believe I was doing this though, but there was no going back now. After a few minutes, or what felt like hours, I could see the end of the ski lift coming closer. I prepared myself by getting ready to stand up by grabbing my poles and tensing my legs. There was a bright red line printed on the snow a few feet ahead and when I reached the line, I quickly stood up and got off. “Phew, at least half the journey’s done”, I thought to
myself. I steered left towards the start of the hill where there were a lot of people of all different ages. But there were a plenty of people next to me that were approximately my age. Some of them looked looked anxious like me while others looked giddy and full of excitement. My hands were clammy and sweaty with nervousness and I wiped the sweat off on my pants. All of a sudden, I thought to myself, Well, is this a good idea? Maybe my skis will break and I’ll tumble down. Or maybe even there will be a huge rock and I’m speeding towards about to crash into it and—. I tried to push these thoughts out of my mind because they weren’t encouraging. Well, I’m gonna go down anyway, so I better do it now! So I tensed my leg, grasped my poles firmly, and propelled myself down. “WHOA”, I was already hurtling down at full speed in the matter of seconds. I was going so quickly that I almost fell backward, which would’ve been bad. I forced my legs to stay straight and I used my poles to maintain my balance. “WOO HOO!!!” I was zipping down at insane speeds and everything was a blur. The trees on the side were just streaks of green. The wind was battering my face and whenever I opened my mouth, I could taste the cool and crisp air. My ears were freezing cold as the wind whistled in my ears. I was full of thrill and all of my fear dissipated. The skis glided effortlessly on the snow and it felt as if nothing can stop me. It felt as if I were flying with no limits. I steered left and right using a combination of my skis and my poles to avoid obstacles. After what seemed like hours, I could see the bottom coming closer, looming towards me. I remembered that my skiing instructor told me a few years ago, “If you want to slow down, make a V shape with your skis. Kind of like a pizza.” I carefully attempted to do that, but I was already going too fast and I suddenly fell forward, tripping on my own skis, and then I came tumbling down with flailing arms into a bone-shattering crash, then skidded down a few feet into a stop. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt at all, I didn’t even have a tiny bruise or even a small scratch. I slowly stumbled back up and wiped all the snow off my arms and legs. I was still full of excitement and my heart was thumping rapidly. “YEEEEAAAAHHHH!”, I whooped loudly, scaring everybody around me. I felt elated and I felt as if I had done the impossible. I knew I had learned that some things that look scary, aren’t that scary. And while I was walking away, I knew I had just learned that although some things
Zig-zag, back and forth, down, down, down, Jonathon, Dad, and I went into a mysterious new world. Now that I have gone into this hot, dry canyon surrounded by monstrous hoodoos, I have seen what it is really like to leave the small town of Seymour, and emerge into the greatness of this world. I have now seen several other National Parks on one of the most renowned places on earth for mysterious creations, the Colorado Plateau. Of all the beautiful places on it, even the Grand Canyon, I have found my favorite one. Bryce Canyon National Park. I thought it was amazing, because it was the most diverse to anything I have ever seen before. We hiked down into it and I felt like I was surrounded by skyscrapers. We trekked around a little, but we didn’t
At 6pm on a Saturday evening, Sally and her parents were on their way to go skiing for their 20th time. The whole family was extremely excited and looking forward to this, especially since the place was somewhere they’d never been to before. As they were in the car, Sally was daydreaming about what the place would look like, and wondered if her worst fear would be there: ski lifts. Everything about this scared her. The car is out in the open, has no roof, and the ride could malfunction at any time. Since this unanswered question was on her mind now, she decided to ask her parents to see if they knew. “I’m just wondering, do either of you know if there are going to be ski lifts at the place?” Both of her parents paused in confusion but didn’t
I have been to a place that has lots of interesting snow and others. It is Lake Tahoe. It is a place that I will never get bored of that it has a lot of snow! Mostly you could do anything with snow. But most of all, beating your older brother up in a snowball fight. I really loved when each time I went down the big mountain. It was really amazing. I was also really happy of building snowmen and building snow forts that I never even knew I can build. It was amazing for all of what could be crafted with snow. The fantastic trip has come to the start!
...I jumped on the boulder and there I stood one jump away from gaining back my popularity. Looking at the cold ice had already given me shiver. I counted to three and jumped, I had broken the ice feet first. Beneath the ice was dark and extremely cold. I wasn’t able to see anything; I was frightened that I wouldn’t find my way back. It was an unusual feeling, like time had stopped and everything was moving slow. I ran out of breath and eventually found my way back. The whole school assumed that I had died from coldness and wouldn’t come back up. After warming up, it was the new kids turn to jump. Everyone waited but he couldn’t jump he choked. I was glad and proud of myself for overcoming my anxiety. The quote by Amit Ray really inspired me and will never be forgotten: “If you want to conquer the anxiety of life, live in the moment, live in the breath.”
A few winters ago, some friends invited my family and me to go snow skiing at Paoli Peaks, Indiana. I did not know how to snow ski, and I leaped at the thought of trying this new sport. On the first morning we entered the pro shop to rent all the gear and make decisions about whether or not to take lessons or go it alone. We decided to be adventurous and go it alone—no lessons. Kent and Celeste, the friends who invited us, knew how to ski and snowboard. He assured us that he could show us the basics, and we would be on our way down the slopes. All of us, after a few minutes learning how to wedge our skis started down the family trail. Although the family trail had smaller hills and appeared safe, to me it seemed way
Being born is Tecumseh, Ontario, ski racing didn’t seem like a natural fit. I had skis on my feet from the age of two and we took annual trips to Mt. Tremblant. In 2007, my family decided to make the move to Calgary, Alberta, from that time on, we have all had a passion for skiing. In 2008, I joined the Sunshine Alpine Race Team based out of Sunshine Village in Banff and that’s been my home team ever since.
The freezing wind had chilled my hand to the bone. Even as I walked into my cabin, I shivered as if there was an invisible man shaking me. My ears, fingers, toes, and noes had turned into a pale purple, only starting to change color once I had made a fire and bundled myself in blankets like ancient Egyptians would do to their deceased Pharaohs. The once powdered snow on my head had solidified into a thin layer of ice. I changed out of the soaking wet clothes I was wearing and put on new dry ones. With each layer I became more excited to go out and start snowboarding. I headed for the lift with my board and my hand. Each step was a struggle with the thick suit of snow gear I was armored in.
This summer I went to my lake house, on Lake Shafer. I tubed, skied, wakeboarded, and Kneeboarded. At the start of summer, I was tubing. It was so exciting when I caught air. I had to at least hit 4 feet in the air when my tube hit a wave. I was going so fast, it felt like I was hitting 70 mph when my mom turn the speed boat. It was the best time.
I wondered if they left for a reason (Which I later found out they did). As far as I knew, they just left. I sat back and the cold bar gave my neck a chill. I could see the guy at the end and I waved to him. He wore a black hat and a green jacket like most ski lift operators do. He waved back and I thought to myself “At least he’s nice.” The hill under me started to shrink as I got closer to the platform. When the platform was in sight I lifted the cold bar with my glove and I could see the mark were my hand had melted the snow on it. My poles were in my hands and my skis up ready to get off. It looked as though I was about to attack someone, which is the normal way you get off the lift, legs raised, poles at 45 degree angle, and head straight ahead. My skis were on and I inched my way forward down to the small hill, onto the main one. After I was on the main hill, there was a neighborhood of other trails, to my left was Mardi Gras, the biggest and main trail of Holiday Valley, in front of me was two more, one led to a terrain park and the other was just another trail of Mardi Gras (or Mardi for short). I swung my skis to the left and passed a few snow boarders strapping up and said to one with a board that had LEDs, “Nice board!” He replied with “Thanks man!” I continued down the trail going slowly while the trees and the snow were grasping my eyes. I came to the part of the hill were it
I looked into the man’s eyes. He didn’t look familiar; I had never encountered anyone looking like this before. It seemed that the man had enough, and was going to throw me out any second, when the ski lift started moving again. We were now a few feet away from the station. I slid on to the snow and skied away from the man as fast as I could. I looked behind me. The man was snowboarding towards me, but I was much faster. I dodged, slid, turned, and skied past people, traveling at my highest speed, when I crashed into one of the caution signs standing on the snow. I tumbled down the mountain. One of my skis had gotten caught, so I climbed up with my snow boots on, hastily put them on, and started skiing down the “expert only” trail, thinking that this would probably throw the man
"Make sure you don't go too fast, and don't do too big of a fall!" he shrieks as rides. I'm scared to death but, my eyes somehow droop. Two weeks ago, I skied blue. The snow looked like a drop straight down, a death sentence. But when I skied down I had no fear, skiing was regular, and now I also know the hill did not go straight down, even if it seems to. As my eyes open again, I know that I can do it.
He arrived at his first destination after about an hour of hiking. After a short while he figured he had looked over his new found haven enough, he was ready. He started down the grade with a small arsenal, consisting of a shovel, about ten granola bars, two bottles of power-ade, his snowshoes, and what was left in his hydration bladder in his pack. After descending about two hundred feet he came into the clearing he was hoping to find, it was as smooth as silk, twenty inches of fresh powder under his board. Up ahead he say a small but formidable drop off on the mountain, he knew if he was going to escape this with his dignity he was going to have to work some magic, to his success. The drop was approximately eighteen feet, but he was ready for it, he landed perfectly, it was like a dream the poof of snow exploding out from his impact, and the gentle flakes hitting his face. As he continued down the slope he did not realize that his gentle landing had severely weakened the physical structure of the mountain’s blanket, and that any moment he could bring the mass down upon himself at impossible speeds.
It was a long day at school, I was ready to hit the slopes. My friend Cody and I got a ride to Timber ridge. When we arrived we suited up in our warmest gear preparing for the cold. After we get our coats, hats, gloves, and boots on we head to the lumberjack slope, one of the longer hills at Timber Ridge. We get in line to hop onto the fast moving lift. When it sour turn we slide up to the line with one foot locked into the board, we stop at the and the lift swings around and the attendant grabs it for just long enough for us to easily get on. It’s a very cold day especially when you are up high on a lift. We near the end put our boards on the ground and push of the chair. We move to the top of the hill and sit down. I lock in my other foot
When my brothers went down it, my sister and I would just watch. So many people would fall down it because it was icy, even my dad. He never wipes out. So that was a big no for me. I was terrified of it. I would get butterflies and tickles in my stomach just looking at it. It was the last day and almost time to go. I don't want to break my leg when I’ve made it this far. But somehow, somehow, I have no idea how, my brothers convinced me to go down. I was at the top of the mountain. A train roaring by just at the end off it, with the wind blowing in my face, deciding to go down this monster or not. Just like that I just went forward. Literally. I did just a couple little turns, but other than that I just went straight down that thing. I passed all my siblings and almost hit a poor old man that was stuck. I sped down that thing so fast that I thought I was going to die if I made one mistake. I finally reach the ground, turned my head to say something to my sister, to see that they weren’t there. I look up at the top to see my sister and two brothers stopped on the middle of the hill with their skis and poles sliding down the hill, with my sister sliding down with them! It was the funniest sight I have ever
I was the first person to ski off of the chairlift that day; arriving at the summit of the Blackcomb Mountain, nestled in the heart of Whistler, Canada. It was the type of day when the clouds seemed to blanket the sky, leaving no clue that the sun, with its powerful light, even existed anymore. It was not snowing, but judging by the moist, musty, stale scent in the air, I realized it would be only a short time before the white flakes overtook the mountain. As I prepared myself to make the first run, I took a moment to appreciate my surroundings. Somehow things seemed much different up here. The wind, nonexistent at the bottom, began to gust. Its cold bite found my nose and froze my toes. Its quick and sudden swirling movement kicked loose snow into my face, forcing me to zip my jacket over my chin. It is strange how the gray clouds, which seemed so far above me at the bottom, really did not appear that high anymore. As I gazed out over the landscape, the city below seemed unrecognizable. The enormous buildings which I had driven past earlier looked like dollhouses a child migh...