Hunter skis!!!

When we moved to our new community a little over a year ago and passed by the ski hill on our way to our new house John and I commented to each other how convenient it was to have such an attraction in our new "hometown."  You see, John and I used to be avid skiers.  That is, BK (before kids).  Those were the days.  The days when we could up and take a vacation out west once a year for a week at a time and do nothing but ski (and take an occasional cocktail at the lodge for a much-deserved break).  Ah yes...those were the days.

After many consecutive years of no vacations together whatsoever (we're going on 8 years now) we have dreamt of a day when we could resume that activity.  We've always wanted our kids to be skiers (or snowboarders).  We'd love to take them out west someday on a family vacation.  So when I saw in the Parks and Rec that they offered ski lessons for kids 7 years and older I talked it over with John and we agreed to sign Hunter up!

We didn't tell him about it until about a week before lessons started.  We paid for a month's worth (so four lessons at once a week).  I don't know what he thought of it by his reaction at first.  I'm guessing he was hesitant but excited at the same time.  One of my best friends has a son who is Hunter's age and we signed them up together.  Hunter was excited to be taking the lessons with a friend.

That hesitant nature lasted all but about 3 minutes once he got his skis on that first lesson.  I could tell immediately that he was hooked.  They spent the whole first lesson on the bunny hill mastering the tow rope (as is standard practice your first time on the hill).

We stayed down on the hill for the first few runs to watch up close and then took the kids up into the lodge on the third floor where we had a great bird's eye view of what was transpiring below.  He seemed pretty comfortable and got the hang of it right away.  When his lesson had ended an hour later he begged if he could stay.  Since the lift ticket was good all night we agreed to let him continue to practice.  However, the wind was fierce that night and it was bitter cold so we called it quits about half an hour later and headed home.






He told me at least a dozen times that week that he couldn't wait to ski again.  My friend's son was telling her the same.  We agreed that the final night we would buy lift tickets and ski with them.

The second lesson the instructor had them riding the chair lift already!  Hunter told me in the car ride to the hill that he hoped they wouldn't ride it because he was nervous.  So when I saw them waiting in line to go up I started worrying for him.  I knew he'd do fine but it is a bit tricky getting off.  He rode his first time with the instructor so I knew he'd be just fine but I was nervous for him just knowing how he must be feeling.  Before long I could see him smiling and then before the night was over he was riding it up with his buddy.  When the lesson was over it was all he could talk about because riding the chair lift means being able to ride better, longer runs of course!

Before long it was time for my friend and I to join them on the hill.  I hadn't been on skis in at least 10 years, the last time being our trip to Mammoth when we lived in California.  My friend was in the same situation.  Upon meeting up at the hill she told me that her boot broke when she tried putting on her skis at home!  Luckily my skis held out and with the Entertainment Book two-for-one pass that my dad bought us for Christmas and no need for rentals it was a pretty reasonable outing (not counting the cost of Hunter's lessons, of course).  We had a fabulous mom-and-son-bonding night!

Hunter kept asking me to go down the black diamond run and meet up with him where it joined with the blue run that he felt comfortable skiing.  So, of course, aiming to please I went for it.  Once I got my ski legs it was like riding a bike.  Every time he requested me to wait for him to get to the joining point and then start down the hill.  One time while I was waiting for him to ski down to begin my run I saw that he had fallen down.  So I quick skied down to him worried that he was hurt and asked him right away, "Are you okay?"  I couldn't help laughing when he replied loudly, "YARD SALE!!!"  Soooo funny!  For those of you who don't ski, a yard sale is when you crash and your skis and poles go flying everywhere, as if you are having a yard sale right there on the hill.  How he even learned that term I have no idea!