The last you saw of our snowy adventure Master Sporty and I had just booked some beginners lessons. Well here is how the rest of our trip panned out.
Our first full day in the snow rolled around. Mr Fix-It nicked off to play on the scarier snowy trails, leaving me with the two munchkins back at the apartment until it was time for our first lesson.
So we did lots of this to kill some time…..
There was lots of climbing mini hills and sliding down them with squeals of glee.
Then we trudged down the hill towards the village with me carrying what felt like twenty sets of skis, arguing all the way down with Master Sporty about why he couldn’t ski down the hill just yet (because he had NO idea how to stop!) and trying to convince a whingeing Miss Princess that I absolutely could not carry her and the twenty million pairs of skis that I had. I also might have been silently cursing Mr Fix-It by that stage too.
But all turned good when we made it to the village and Master Sporty and I headed to our separate lesson areas, while Mr Fix-It and Miss Princess played in the snow and then Miss Princess was
shoved sent off to afternoon snowy daycare (which she said was very VERY boring thanks Mummy).
Our lessons went very well. We both came out at the top of our class so
unwisely after careful consideration decided to ditch all further lessons and hit the bigger beginner runs. Master Sporty skied down them like he’d been doing it forever, while I hit them…literally. Over and over again.
I was not winning any ego contests let me tell you! But I also do not give up easily. Seems to be a trait the kids have picked up on….
Mr Fix-It eventually won the argument that I should ditch snow-ploughing down the entire run and go with snow-ploughing around the corners and parallel skiing the rest of the way, I was pretty shaky at it but must admit it was pretty good advice and much nicer on my now aching thighs.
When our legs couldn’t take one more metre of skiing we headed for our snowy home and then hit the nearest restaurant. I was shocked at how much the kids could eat after a day in the snow.
Day three arrived and the sun was still shining down, the slopes were still looking gorgeous and off we went.
Miss Princess went to her own ski school this time…and LOVED it. While the rest of us hit the…somewhat icy….slopes.
It turns out I’m not a fan of icy slopes, I much prefer to ski in the afternoons when it’s turned a bit more powdery. It looks softer and prettier, not like the hard nasty looking icy slopes.
So, I freaked out.
For the first two hours of the day I was a very unhappy beginner skier slipping and sliding all over the place and ready to turn in my lift pass for good.
It didn’t help when I ended up on a blue run (for the uninitiated that’s the next step up from the beginner run, but this one was VERY steep). Mr Fix-It to this day insists it was an accident, but at the time I definitely didn’t believe him and sent death stares in his direction on more than one occasion.
It didn’t help one little bit that just as I was falling over for the umpteenth thousandth time Master Sporty went whizzing by with his poles up under his armpits in racer mode. Just as I was recovering from that ego blow, Bush Babe’s daughter Violet went swooshing past as well. That just about did me in and I might have thrown a little tanty.
But calm was restored an hour or so later when the snow turned fluffy and suddenly I found my ski feet and all was rosy and good with the world again.
Then Day Three rolled around and things got rather interesting.
Off went Miss Princess to ski school again, she was already snow ploughing well and they were going to teach her to turn in this lesson…smarty pants.
Miss Princess showing how the snowplough “pizza” is done.
So while Miss Princess was taken care of, six of us headed high up into the mountains to ski some very pleasant beginner runs.
But between getting off the chairlift and making it to the beginner runs we had to ski a crossover style track along the mountain edge.
Well most of us skied it…Master Sporty decided flying was more his style and as we came around the highest corner and veered to the left on a downhill run, he went a little too close to the edge and went for a fly off the side of the cliff instead.
See the person at the top of the photo? That’s Mr Fix-It. Master Sporty is off the edge a few metres below where Mr Fix-It is standing.
I think my heart actually stopped for a second as I saw his little orange helmet disappear over the side of the cliff. My head immediately told me that the probability he landed in snow was very high, but how deep the snow was and what was underneath it was another thing.
Mr Fix-It and I quickly but carefully made our way to the side of the track and gingerly peered over, hoping for the best but fearing the worst.
What we saw was our little boy a few metres below us, standing up and then asking “should I just ski down the cliff?”
I was pretty quick to reply with a “NO!!!!!” and after a quick check that all his limbs were still where limbs should be and he amazingly still had his skis on and his poles in hand, he was guided by Mr Fix-It on how to climb very very slowly to the top.
After that little heart-stopper we had a great time skiing the runs, though Master Sporty opted to stay with Bush Babe for awhile after we all stopped for morning tea, I think the reality of his fly had finally sunk in.
I was determined to hit the slopes one more time before Miss Princess was to be picked up from her skiing adventures, so headed back up on the quad chairlift. Now have I mentioned how bad I am at getting off these chair lifts?
Here’s a quick rundown of my chairlift adventures. The first couple of goes I fell over straight after getting off, causing chaos. About the third go I managed to hit Mr Fix-It in the head with my ski pole on a flailing exit. Then I finally seemed to get the hang of it and even managed an almost successful T-Bar exit (I fell after an initial good dismount). BUT on my second time on the quad I managed to temporarily shut the whole thing down.
Yes, indeedy I did.
There we were chatting away (I chat because I’m TERRIFIED of heights and the incessant talking makes me forget that I’m hanging ridiculously high in the air on a flimsy chairlift), we got to the “lift the tip of your skis up sign” as we came near the dismount. I obliged and then I must have dropped them back down, because the next thing I knew my ski had jammed itself up underneath the chairlift.
My leg was stuck between the ice and the chairlift, as in nowhere to go but down.
I pushed myself forward to fall on the ground and save me leg when we all heard a SNAP and suddenly I was free.
Panic broke out. Apparently everyone thought I’d broken my leg. I was worried I’d broken my ski.
My ski and I were in fact all in one piece and the snap had been my ski snapping off and wedging itself under the chairlift. With my ski back on, a HUGE apology to the chairlift man and my tail between my legs we hit the slopes.
All was going swimmingly well until Mr Fix-It ditched me mid-ski to hit the blue runs and I had to ski back to the village to collect Miss Princess by myself. In theory this sounded fine, in practice it went a little pear-shaped when I took a wrong turn and ended up on a blue run all by myself.
So I did what any self-respecting terrified skier would do, picked up my skis partway down the hill, threw them over my shoulder and walked a hundred metres or so sideways across the mountain until I found the elusive beginners run. So. Embarrassed.
The rest of our trip went surprisingly smoothly. Master Sporty got his nerve back and skied with daddy from the top of Mount Perisher down all the scary blue runs, he now wants to live permanently in the snow.
We had cozy nights of drinks and chatting by the fire…
Master Sporty and Dash giving us a taste of things to come.
…and we got to play in a snow storm…
If you need a way to rid yourself of some energy and some cash then I thoroughly recommend a snowy adventure holiday.
But we won’t be there next year, we’re off to the beach instead!