I have just arrived home from my first time downhill skiing trip (Grade 6 doesn't count), and I have - obviously - survived. I was picked up this morning at 7:45 and we drove out in poor visibility and very wet (and slippery roads) to Mont Avalanche - a ski hill approx. one hour north of Montreal. (We, being a group of people from the lab along with their respective significant others.) We arrived at 9, picked up our gear and then myself and three others headed to the baby slope for our lesson. The instructor was good - very nice and patient. English was NOT his first language, but I just watched him, and the others, and it wasn't too bad. After about an hour, he left us on the baby hill with the rudiments - stopping and turning. I spent the rest of the morning perfecting my falling technique. In all honesty, I wasn't THAT bad, but I would bail if I felt myself lose control - normally when I was getting to the end of the baby hill where a bunch of parents were video tapping their kids (who were zipping around me with the greatest of ease) - so I am sure there are tons of home videos which have captured me sliding to a stop on my rear-end. The baby hill had a neat conveyor belt thingy (picture to follow), which allowed one to ride your way to the top. The lady operating the conveyor was very nice and provided many helpful hints and tips (including a hand up at one point), so that by lunch time I had made it down the slope, successfully stopping without needing to bail, a couple of times. This of course, made me feel quite confident in my ability, and since I knew that I just had to take the chance, when one of my lab mates asked if I felt ready to tackle the 'big-kid' hill, I agreed. Thinking back, maybe the high-altitude had this flatlander a little delusional, or maybe the age-old proverb of "pride goes before the fall" was just in effect. But I should have known that it was not a good idea, especially when I met up with my instructor from the morning lesson, whom when I informed it that I was going up the hill, looked really worried. He very quickly stated that I should stay on this one certain route, and that I should take it really really slowly (or at least I think that's what he said - remember, English was not his first language). With his warnings (forebodings?) ringing in my ears I headed my way to the ski lift. During lunch one of the other first-timers (who had gone up the big hill before lunch) had been talking about the lift and how hard it was to get on/off, this of course did not help with the growing doubt. But it was too late to back out - my pride was on the line. So with the spouse of one my lab mates at my side I took a seat and was soon winging my way up the mountain. The ride wasn't long enough, but it wasn't bad (I didn't look down, and he didn't rock the lift (NUTTY!!!)) which helped me not get too freaked out). At the end, I just got off - I think it would have been easier if I had done it on my own, but he 'helped' me by staying right at my side . . . which of course made me terrified to fall, which made me very unsteady, but it turned out ok (I blush about it now, but at the moment, I wasn't really thinking - I was just trying to decide if I was rational or not). Once at the top, the moment was immortalized by a photo (see below) and myself and two very patient lab mates started down. I had been warned that the first part of the slope was quite steep, and let me tell you, looking down, it looked like a cliff (obviously it wasn't, but the mind plays some funny tricks on you - especially when you are doubting your sanity). I spent the first part skiing-turning-freaking out-falling to a stop (at least I didn't scream). My coaches were very encouraging, and helped me get up time and time again, after I bailed. One of the girls was a snowboarder so she just provided moral support and encouragement, while the other was providing the instructions. It was a little frustrating, because she was trying to get me to do it nice and slow (which is good) but the way she was doing it was go down slightly, turn then stop. I was getting the hang of turning, but I was having a heck of a time stopping - thus the continual bailing. Eventually I got to a point that I would do two turns (a nice looking S) before stopping (I can really only stop with my left leg - which is mysteriously stronger than my right - which is why I think I was bailing so much at the beginning of the slope, because I couldn't stop after a left turn, only after a right turn). Finally we arrived at a point that I could see the parking lot (the run I was on, curved along the back of the mountain), I think at that point, I just decided that I was going to get down - I was tired of continually stopping so I just went. Actually I lost control, but instead of bailing managed to stay upright and not hit anyone. Apparently I looked really good, but all I was thinking was 'HOW DO I STOP THIS THING!!!" Eventually the hill evened out and I was able to slow to a stop in front of the lodge. I HAD SURVIVED!!! I was invited to go up again, but I had learned my lesson - I was not ready for the big hill. So I politely declined and forced myself to go down the bunny hill a couple of times to shake off the experience (get back on the horse and all that jazz). At about 1:50, I had had it. My legs, hips and back ached, I was desperate to bend my ankles and I was starting to get a head ache. So I headed in and sat with the other first-timers as we commiserated on the experience (One note of pride, is that I succeeded to stay out longer than the other first-timers: one girl stopped after the lesson - she just didn't like it at all - and the other girl headed in 30 minutes before I packed it in). At about 2:30 the others started drifting back to the lodge, and by 3:15 everyone was heading back to Montreal. When I got home, I made myself a pot of soup and a cup of tea and am now resting on my couch - feeling my muscles tighening even as I type. I am going to be so sore tomorrow.

The bunny hill - from the top looking down - notice the kids, there were so many of them at one point - all better than me. It's a kick to the ego, when you go down the bunny hill all morning and see no improvement, and these kids go down once and are ready for the big hill.
Me, at the top of the mountain. Its difficult to tell from the photo but the look on my face is an attempt at a smile - at this point the stupidity of my choice was sinking in (I had just seen the first part of the slope)
Again from the bunny hill (after I made it safely down the big hill). The area was really pretty. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) it was really overcast, so its hard to see, but the 'mountains/hills/whatever' were really pretty. We had just got a dump of snow and all the trees were ladened with snow.
The conveyor belt thingy - so much nicer than a tow-rope!
I went up that mountain - and came down it - in one piece. I took this shot as we were leaving, and there were a lot less people on the slopes. The hill isn't really well known so it wasn't too crowded - between 10am-1pm there were a lot of people, especially around the lodge, the stairs to the right of the photo, but it still wasn't bad. The weather was actually quite nice - around -5 or so. It was overcast all day, and a little windy. As the afternoon progressed it was starting to get cooler, and the wind picked up quite a bit, but still it was a nice day. Only one person of the lab had a notable injury, when she collided with another skier and went down hard. She hit her head and has a nice purple bruise/lump on her forehead. Otherwise no one else was hurt - sore but not injured. All in all it was an OK day. I am glad that I went, though I wouldn't say that I particularly enjoy skiing.

Love you all lots!