Tuesdayslipperyslide

Looks like we're going to be dealing with wet, wet, wet and snow, snow, snow for the next few days. Then, the sun will come out and the thermometer will dip back down to the teens.  Not a bad way to end a week.

And, I'd say Schweitzer folks must be pretty happy with Mother Nature this year.  She's been dolling out some healthy portions of white stuff for the skiers and boarders this week, and that will continue.

Annie's going up to Schweitzer today with her snowboard.  She's in her second year of snowboarding and figuring it out, so today she may just have fun up there at Schweitzer.

I'm one of those rare birds who never really had much fun on the slopes.  I think my inability to learn anything involving coordination along with my unbalanced gravity  have played a major role in my lackluster attitude toward downhill skiing.

Two days at Schweitzer stand out in my memory.  One occurred while I was still in college.  One of my brother Kevin's  smokejumping friends, Hank Carpenter, who was attending the University of Idaho at the time, came home to Sandpoint with me for a weekend.

Of course, we had to try Schweitzer because Kevin was head of the ski patrol at the time.  I had also worked there selling season tickets.  So, we had an in.

Nobody told my body that we had a good deal up there, though.  It seems that we did take a lesson that day, but I don't remember learning much.  

What I do remember was all the time (approximately two hours) I spent, mostly lying in the snow, below the Baby Bear Chair Lift.  

Skiers, many whom I knew, kept cruising up the lift above me, waving and surely wondering if she was ever gonna get down that hill.  

I was thinking the same thoughts.  And, as the hours passed and seemingly everyone passed by me at least a couple of dozen times, I got pretty frustrated.

Hank was a little more advanced than I.  He made it down the kiddie hill about three times, even though one run was completed almost totally in reverse.  That was quite a sight, but even then, it was far more successful than anything I was experiencing.

Finally, my embarrassed ski-patrol-honcho brother came over.  After ordering me to get up only to watch me slump back into the snow about three or four times, he actually offered a hand.

"Get up, dammit, get up!" he said while pulling with all his might.  I started upward but discovered a force pulling me back to the ground.  My coat was firmly planted under one ski.  

Still, Kevin pulled with such might that I had no choice but to rise to my feet.  The coat had about a foot-long rip after that.  

Totally discouraged, I walked down the slope with skis in hand while my brother skied off, surely hoping never to be seen again in the skiing public with this clumsy sister of his.

On another occasion, I was at Schweitzer the same day my sister Laurie brought her sixth graders from Farmin School.  This time, my lesson made a little more sense, so I was pretty gung ho, for starters.  

That enthusiasm waned a bit when I was trying to get situated alongside the rope tow, only to have Jesse Harris, a rather long and slender young man who would eventually be one of my students, connect with me up close and personal.  

Within seconds, the two of us were intertwined and rolling around in the snow like one big pretzel.  

We eventually untangled and I actually made a few decent runs that day.  Still, my passion for the sport remained tepid at best.  I haven't gone back since.

My kids enjoy going to the hill, though, and I am glad.  So, I'm hoping Annie has fun and some good runs with her board today.

In the meantime, we'll find plenty to do with the snow down here on the flat-----maybe even some snowshoeing.

Happy Tuesday.