Ski-ing and I have had a long, passionate and turbulent on-off relationship. It was not love-at-first-sight, but started more from a grim determination not to be the one holding the coats and drinks at the bottom of the piste while my children, friends and husband threw themselves down vertical mountains. To earn my gluhwein at the top of the magnificent Alps I had to be able to stay on skis long enough to get back down to the bottom - to a good Irish girl like myself that was incentive enough!We have had many lovers' tiffs, when I have ended up botton-skyward with my skis over my head and the sound of 'friends' giggling ringing in my ears! I have been shamed into contemplating getting down the mountain on my ever-patient friend/ski-instructor's back. I have cried on the top of slopes begging my lovely friend, Sarah, to let me come down on my bottom. She always refused. I have skied in ridiculous costumes as forfeits for being a ridiculous skier!
We have also had moments of great passion, when I would sell my own children for one more run down the Kanzelwand, or when I skied my first black feeling like Franz Klammer, but looking like Postman Pat on skis.
This trip I had a new challenge - to ski off-piste. I have been off-piste before, when I have failed to turn and ended up face-planted in 4 feet of snow. But this time I was going to learn to stay on the surface and not to cry!According to our guru, Gilly, the key is to BOUNCE, BOUNCE, BOUNCE with equal pressure on both skis, and I did (sort of), leaving new tracks in 2 feet of virgin powder snow. Sadly the ones to the left are not mine, but please forgive my plagiarism. Mine looked more like a toddler's scribble on a blank piece of paper. I will continue bouncing till I get there.
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