Just call me Jonny Moseley!

That's right....I'm a skier!  I ski.  Starting today.

Now let's just get this straight...I'm a California girl, a city girl, and I could probably count my experiences with snow on one hand, before moving to Logan.  I've never even worn a pair of ice skates (I'm rubbish on roller skates, or anything with wheels, for that matter!), let alone a pair of skis.

But I decided to go along when I heard that a bunch of people from church (my Single's Ward and about 3 other wards) were going up to Beaver Mountain Ski Resort for our Family Home Evening activity.  Up until the moment I set foot in the rental shop, I wasn't sure I wanted to try it.

Let's just say that I have a wonderful mother who always tried to keep me safe and protect me from scary things like rip tides and avalanches and kidnappers, so there are quite a few things I haven't done and places I haven't been.  But to my mom's credit, I'm still alive, and have never even broken a bone.  And I've had many opportunities in my adult life to be adventurous and prove to myself that I have the courage and the ability to do scary things.  Like skiing.  

But I'll admit, upon arriving at the ski resort and looking at the slopes, I was sure that I would be staying inside the lodge, safe and warm, drinking hot chocolate and laughing at all the people face-planting outside in the snow.  It took a little coaxing, but soon I was all set up with borrowed snow pants, a warm wool sweater and of course, rented ski gear.  Then there was no turning back!

My ski rental receipt.  Proof!
The only proof I have, really, since I didn't take any pictures.

First of all, I should mention that just walking in ski boots is no easy task!  It's like learning to walk all over again!  My friends Lucy and Pearl gave me some pointers and some encouraging words, but my first few tries down the smallest of hills I could find were, in a word, discouraging.  I fell a couple of times, but even after four or five times, I just couldn't get the hang of it!  I didn't feel comfortable at all.  I wasn't even having fun.

When we went inside for a chili/hot chocolate break, it was all I could do to convince myself to go out again, just to get my money's worth.  Thankfully, one of my friends from the ward (who also happens to give ski lessons) offered to be my personal instructor.  For free!  Thanks, Matt!

Finally, with Matt's help, I didn't feel like skis and I were mortal enemies any more!  We actually got on pretty nicely after a while.  You know, it really helps when you learn the right form and technique...go figure!  I was perfectly to content to just stay on the bunny slope the rest of the night, but Matt had to challenge me to go up the lift to the big hill!  I couldn't back down.  Maybe that was my pride...I always have to try something at least once, just to prove that I can do it.  I'm a perfectionist, what can I say?!  But I also trusted that Matt wouldn't let me die.  Because that would just be a horrible way to end the night!

So, yep, I went up that lift, and I skied down the whole mountain without even falling.  Ok, so Matt stayed in front of me the whole time, offering his hand or arm or shoulder or whatever I needed to steady myself, even acting as a human bumper when my skis started getting away from me.  But I did it!  I skied.  And it was pretty fun, after all!  I knew this day had to come sooner or later, living in Logan and all, but it feels pretty good....I guess I can cross this one off my list!

Oh, and Beaver Mountain, I'll be back!