Last week (ok, so this is a little out of date now) I went on a trip to the snow with most of my family. It was a flippin' brilliant time.
We drove to Mt Beauty, where we were staying, on the Monday, craning our necks for glimpses of snowy mountains as we got closer. Was it really true? Could Australian-[small]sized mountains really grow enough snow to go skiing on? To warrant ski-lifts? The anticipation grew.
Arrival, and still barely a suggestion of snow anywhere about. We suspended doubt, and went and sent a local hire place into a flurry of activity, fitting out all 8 of us with gear.
Morning arrives, and we claw our way out of cosy beds, dilly-dally through breakfast and preparing lunch, tumble into the car with gloves, beanies, glasses, goggles, jackets, more jackets crammed in everywhere, and wound our way up the hills. Snowy caps began to emerge. Anticipation budded and shot. We chuckled at parked cars, coated in thick layers of snowy fondant.
We were here!! We purchased our lift passes, donned our skis, and headed up. The slightly more experienced of the crew headed off to tackle the slopes, while the beginners agonised their way through a lesson. Let us free! The freshly powdered snow beckoned.
Finally, we were off.
I snow-ploughed my way down the first few runs, and then gingerly began to get a handle on turning. I got really good at falling over. I wasn't very good at slowing down. But going fast feels so terrifyingly good!
Anyway, a couple of pictures:
It was probably the funnest family holiday ever.
(Despite the fact that I slaughtered my ACL -anterior cruciate ligament - the one in your knee that you need to do the fun stuff.. but that's another story.)
And I can't wait to go again. (If I go before getting surgery, then I don't have to worry about snapping my acl again. Good plan?)
We drove to Mt Beauty, where we were staying, on the Monday, craning our necks for glimpses of snowy mountains as we got closer. Was it really true? Could Australian-[small]sized mountains really grow enough snow to go skiing on? To warrant ski-lifts? The anticipation grew.
Arrival, and still barely a suggestion of snow anywhere about. We suspended doubt, and went and sent a local hire place into a flurry of activity, fitting out all 8 of us with gear.
Morning arrives, and we claw our way out of cosy beds, dilly-dally through breakfast and preparing lunch, tumble into the car with gloves, beanies, glasses, goggles, jackets, more jackets crammed in everywhere, and wound our way up the hills. Snowy caps began to emerge. Anticipation budded and shot. We chuckled at parked cars, coated in thick layers of snowy fondant.
We were here!! We purchased our lift passes, donned our skis, and headed up. The slightly more experienced of the crew headed off to tackle the slopes, while the beginners agonised their way through a lesson. Let us free! The freshly powdered snow beckoned.
Finally, we were off.
I snow-ploughed my way down the first few runs, and then gingerly began to get a handle on turning. I got really good at falling over. I wasn't very good at slowing down. But going fast feels so terrifyingly good!
Anyway, a couple of pictures:
Snow Angel!
The Crew
Gorgeous sunshiney day
Sun-setting on snowy slopes
Cheese!
Pete looking pro even while on his behind
Spot of cross-country
Yay!!
It was probably the funnest family holiday ever.
(Despite the fact that I slaughtered my ACL -anterior cruciate ligament - the one in your knee that you need to do the fun stuff.. but that's another story.)
And I can't wait to go again. (If I go before getting surgery, then I don't have to worry about snapping my acl again. Good plan?)
