Hittin' the Slopes

Record snow = Trip to Stevens!

For Christmas 2008, Dave bought me my first set of skis and boots. A few days later, we found out we were pregnant and the doctor nixed any more skiing for a newbie like myself. Fast forward to 2o12 and those skis & boots had still not been on the slopes. So, we picked a date and made plans to use my 3-year-old Christmas present.

Because we had to stay in Edmonds Monday night (our house was bathroom-less for 48 hours), I was feverishly "packing" for our overnight stay, as well as the ski trip the following morning. As I was pulling out my gear, I cringed. In a previous post, I mentioned a rodent issue in our garage. Well, we sort of figured out that it died either by an animal and then crawled into our garage to die, or we somehow hit it with one of our cars. As I was sweeping it up, I saw that the tail was very short and had a scab on the end. Later, we discovered little trails of blood in random sections of our garage. Well, as I pulled out the boots, I saw those same trails snaking up the front of my boots and some blood stains at the top of the boot. eww. Not only did we have a rat garage, but now my still-brand-new ski boots had become a rat motel. I shuddered at the thought of sliding my feet into those things. But, thanks to Dave, rubber gloves, hydrogen peroxide and some Lysol, we managed to clean up the problem... and I tried VERY, VERY hard to keep that creepy image out of my head.

Dave's parents were kind enough to provide us a warm bed and working toilets to get us through the night. Unfortunately, Benjamin wasn't feeling well and was totally inconsolable, so we were also awake through the night. I wasn't sure if it was an earache or growing pains, but he was in sad shape - and so were we because neither of us slept much. Around 4am, I said a pleading prayer to get to sleep, and then had the thought I should take him out of the room. That way, Dave could sleep a little, and as the driver of our morning expedition, he needed it more than I. I hunkered down on the couch, grabbed the remote and then something magical happened. As soon as I turned on "Jake & the Neverland Pirates", the crying fits ceased. Magic. I pulled the blankets over my head and Benjamin curled up in a ball on my legs; I'm not certain, but I think we both conked out shortly thereafter.

Morning came and I managed to pry off Benjamin's death grip so that I could go. I was going on about 90 minutes of sleep (fun!) and newly-disinfected rat boots; I was trying to be optimistic that it would be a grand adventure.

I will say that the skiing was good. Stevens received 19" of powder during the night, so the place was awesome. It had been a long time since I'd been on skis, so it took me about 6 runs on Daisy before I was ready to move to a steeper slope. I was trying to stay focused, knees bent, staying over my skis, putting weight on the outside ski: all of the pointers that Dave was sharing with me; they were super helpful, but my mind was a bit cloudy from major sleep deprivation. I was intent on doing things right, but every time I lost my focus I bit it - hard. One particular fall on the west side of Hogsback was everything short of ladylike; upside-down, sliding down the hill with skis splayed at unnatural angles, I was the picture of "what not to do". Earlier, I overheard some guy telling his wife/girlfriend/significant other to look at me, saying "do that, she knows what she's doing". Haha - hope she didn't follow my example when I took that spill (or kill her boyfriend, for that matter). At that point, my legs were shaking worse than Jell-O and I was more than ready for a break, but Dave convinced me to take one more run down the other side of Hogsback. It wasn't too bad, but some of the mogul-y goodness that many people love nearly pitched me off my feet on more than one occasion. By the time we made it to Daisy, I was nearly running to the lodge.

Once inside, I grabbed a bowl of hot chili... and then I noticed the intense pain. I pulled off my ski boot and the big-toe portion of my wool sock was bloody. Lovely. Then it started throbbing. Nothing is more appetizing than seeing someone's nasty, naked toes in the middle of your lunch, but I had to investigate and couldn't really move from the area. Then I noticed the pain in my other foot. Not good. (Sorry for the gruesome details. Suffice to say, I think I may lose both of my toenails to this little adventure.) There was no way I was getting those throbbing toes back in the rat boots, so I told everyone to head back up to the runs without me. I spent the next several hours sipping on hot chocolate, people-watching, taking my gear to the car and hanging out with Dave's dad, who finished early.

While I am bummed about the toes and the shortened ski day, I had a great time re-learning the basics of skiing. I'm hoping to sort of out the issue of my boots (hello, DI!); I think my feet changed post-pregnancy, but perhaps it's something else. Anyway, the point is it was a fun day, the snow was beautiful and I got a nice "Date Day" with Dave. Big shout out to Kathleen for watching Benjamin, our shrieking monkey, for the day; she basically rocks.