I awoke to yet another snowy Christmas morning. I was 2 years old. My sister and I dashed into my parents room. We pounced on top of them abruptly; jolting them awake from their distant sleep. We hurried downstairs, clasped our stockings in one hand and rushed into the backroom where the Christmas tree was awaiting us. My sister and I detected two large presents. We were anxious to open the mysterious boxes. We burst open the package and found skis! Weeks passed and I had yet to go skiing. Finally, the day came. My dad took my sister an I to Bear Creek for our first ski lesson. We started on the green slopes which are considered basic. When I first ascended down the hill, it felt like my eyes opened for the first time. The snow glistened as it reflected the radiant sun. As I glided across the powdery blanket of white, I left a cloud of mist trailing behind me. I had an advantage when learning to ski because my dad used to be a ski instructor. This helped me immensely. My dad would ski backwards and grip onto my tips to hold them straight so I wouldn’t …show more content…
My family was planning on going to Colorado to go skiing! On our way I peered out the window of the airplane. The clouds looked like cotton candy, swelled up and rolling across the morning sky. They concealed authentic and flush colors. Sun beams poured through thread-like openings painting the sky with brilliant colors. Below we were soaring over monstrous mountains with snow capped peaks. At 5 years of age they intimidated me. My perception remained the same throughout most of the trip. The mountains towered over me but my dad was there the whole time to help me get past my fear. When the trip was over I felt like a competent skier. The following 4 years my family went to various other places in Colorado to go skiing. At the end of our final trip I was about 10 years old. My dad still gives me tips along the way so that I can always improve on my
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 approach the rugged mountain, shielding my body from the nasty frost nipping at my exposed skin. The sun ever so lightly peeks over the horizon as I strap on my skis, lightly dusted with a thin layer of fresh snow. Although my body shivers unceasingly, I feel comforted by the surges of adrenaline pumping through my body. I skate briskly toward the ski lift to secure my place as the first person in line. On the slippery leather seats of the lift my mind races, contemplating the many combinations of runs I can chain together before I reach the bottom of the hill. I arrive at the peak of the mountain and begin building up speed. Floating on the soft snow, weaving through the trees and soaring over rocks, I feel as if I am flying. The rush of adrenaline excites me. I feed on it. I thrive on it. I am ski; I live for speed; I am an evolving technique and I hold a firm edge.
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
As we were climbing up the hill, I looked around to notice how green the lightly damp grass was, how beautiful the tall trees were, and how fast those snow clouds were moving above us. We got one elk on this adventure, so we decided we would pack up our stuff and head back home. As the white GMC reached the summit of Red Mountain Pass, I looked back to Silverton to see nothing but snow falling from the nearly black clouds in the sky, and I thought to myself--let it snow.
I was born and raised on snowmobiles. I remember times when I would fall asleep in front of my parents and, being able to ride by myself when I was 5 till now. All the trips my family has been on in four states and we are talking about going to the mountains this year. Being able to ride around here with all my friends see who can go the biggest jump.
I think it was around my second year on skies and It was getting closer to winter and the majority of my friends all snowboarded but my dad never was really for it when I told him i wanted to switch, eventually he got over it and next thing I know my 12th Christmas under the tree I had my first setup, was not anything special but it meant so much to me that a few days later I had my Mom bring me to Gunstock and because I wanted to see what I could do and if I can learn. I think the night or so before I was non-stop watching youtube tutorials or something along that
Skiing has been a significant part of my life since I was three. The slopes fill me? with more joy than anywhere else. Throughout my years skiing, my Dad and my older brother Trevor have helped me. Following in their footsteps, I have progressed in both the way I ski and the difficulty of slopes I attempt. When I began skiing, I was scared and needed lessons. I could not complete any slopes except bunnies and greens (the easiest slopes). Through many days spent on the slopes challenging myself, my skill improved. I wanted to ski with my dad and brother, and knew I had to practice in order to even try keeping up with them. Determination to join them and be together skiing made me work harder than I have worked before to improve a skill. This story will help you see some of the challenges I faced and successes I achieved as I began to ski, and improved both my skill and mindset.
Michael had told me over and over again that I had to be ready for the tricky spots, or I'd be telling a nurse that the light at the end of the tunnel is an over-exaggeration. Nevertheless I got cocky and decided that I could try a black diamond slope. Michael had been trying to teach me to take sharper, shorter turns and to crouch down to maximize speed. Now, to an experienced skier these can be handy skills, but to a novice, they end up being just one more thing to think about while going 40 M.P.H.
I mean it's because of all those couple thousand falls that you finally learned how to not fall, and even after all that you shouldn’t expect to pick it up like a book from a kindergarten section meant for children who are learn their abc’s. If you persevere and continue to struggle you can hold your head up high and feel the rush of the wind blowing past your face as you swing in and out of between trees instead of pissed of that your son was able to learn it fast. He's younger than you, children practically inhale any kind of knowledge that include how to even make sandwiches for himself, so that he might be able to for himself one, sneaky mom. Although the pain of failing on the ice and snow is never a fun discovery, you should never forget the reason for going on a “family” vacation is to have fun as a family and if you didn't have fun skiing I don't suggest you try snowboarding but I recommend you try sledding. Very simple and hard to mess up, except when you try to use the non existent brakes which is where everything goes
Pieter and I were determined to become proficient water skiers, while Rhea had knee issues that limited her participation. The Gibson Girl only had a forty horsepower motor, which wasn’t sufficient power for faster skiing or for doing tricks like skiing barefoot. I remember using the Comfort for some of our skiing before Dad traded the outboard for a sixteen-foot Gar Wood Junior, which had an inboard motor and more power. Pieter and I spent hours practicing the basics of getting up efficiently, skiing across the wake and then jumping the wake. It wasn’t long before we developed a passion for mastering slalom skiing. I wanted to ski all the time during that period.
Skiing has been a huge part of my life. Ever since I was young, I would always venture out to the mountains and go skiing. What makes skiing a lot of fun is the environment you get to be a part of. Every hill you go up to, there's always new surroundings you get to interact with. Aside from the environment, one of the primary reasons I love skiing is because I ski race. I am able to compete against others for the fastest time by completing a course. So, when I was in middle school, I signed up for the ski team. Once a week, I was able to practice my skills and improve my time by competing. It became a part of my lifestyle. It taught me that improving myself will lead to success.
Thin air encompasses me as I commence the final day of skiing at Vail, Colorado. Seven days of skiing elapse rather painlessly; I fall occasionally but an evening in the Jacuzzi soothes my minor aches. Closing time approaches on the final day of our trip as I prepare myself for the final run of the vacation. Fresh off the ski lift, I coast toward the junction of trails on the unoccupied expert face of the mountain. After a moment of thought, I confidently select a narrow trail so steep that only the entrance can be seen from my viewpoint.
It was a saturday and I woke up and I wanted to go sledding. I asked my brother if he would take me he said. He said ‘’ok.’’ I put on my coat, snow pants, gloves and my hat. I grabbed my sled and I told my dad I was going sledding. Me and my brother started walking Until we arrived at the hill.
I almost fell off a cliff on the side of a mountain. I was in Pitkin, Colorado, on a camping trip during the summer of 2009. The trees were green, the air was fresh so were the lakes, rivers, and ponds were stocked with fish and wildlife was everywhere. Usually, on these camping trips, I would be accompanied by a large number of people. However, this time, it was just my parents, my three brothers, and my two sisters. I was almost 12 years old at the time and having three older brothers made me very competitive. Naturally, when my family decided to climb one of the mountain’s which were around us, I wanted to be the first one to reach its peak.
I was only ten years old when I began learning how to ride a bike which wasn’t easy for me but got the hang of like any other person would. My family members were annoyed of me constantly asking for someone to teach me. I wanted my own bike just like my sisters and be able to ride along with them and not bother with their rude remarks of not being able to ride a bike. So my father decided to help me learn in front of my building in the summer until I was able to ride on my own. My father's reason for teaching was for us to spend more quality time together since he was always working. It took me three weeks to learn due to the small accident I had which help me learn a valuable lesson.