Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Winter Park: November, 1977


31 years ago, I booked a beautiful condo in Winter Park, Colorado, for a week in November to go skiing.
I got an incredible deal which included lift tickets and lodging for four people for only $400. I was in the Air Force stationed in Wyoming, so all I had to do was find three skiers to join me. This should be, I assumed, no problem, because I saw my fellow Airmen blow that much in town over any given weekend. It turned out to be like pulling teeth, but I finally filled the condo. Ken, who turned out to be one of my best friends, signed up himself and his sister, who came out from Ohio to join us. Like me, they liked the idea of skiing but hadn't actually skied yet. The fourth member of our party, Bill, was the only skier, but being from Michigan, he was mostly a cross-country skier.

This was my expedition, and I bought a used Chevrolet Vega station wagon for $1000 to get us there. The week turned out to be amazing. Winter Park had recently expanded into essentially a brand new ski resort, and the big mountain with plenty of beginner and intermediate runs was almost empty so early in the season.
My friends and I had a great week, catching the first lift and the last lift every day, barely breaking for lunch. We all learned to ski pretty well following a one hour lesson and then using the “graduated length method” where we went from ridiculously short skis that were maneuverable but totally unstable at speed to eventually skiing 180s or 190s and barreling down the mountain like John-Claude Killey. Moguls were used as jumps by us, resulting in some horrendous crashes, but we were young and limber, always getting up with uproarious laughter. In short, my ski trip turned out to be a great success, although by then it was “our” ski trip.

One day while driving from the condo on extremely icy roads, I realized I hadn't put my seatbelt on. I reached down to grab it. I'm not sure if that movement slightly moved the steering wheel or not, but the next thing I knew, the car started to fishtailing from side to side, getting wilder with each swing. A car was coming down the other side of the two lane highway, and my car was going well into his lane. Not wanting to be responsible for a head-on collision, I turned the car into the snow filled ditch on the far side of the road. We missed the other car and made a soft landing in the snow with nobody hurt. Within five minutes, a two truck whose driver made a good living correcting these situations pulled us out for $25. Now, the entire trip could have been like that one incident, and I have no doubt that I would have carried the blame, but since the trip was so fantastic overall, this minor inconvenience didn't dominate our memories.

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