Skiing and Chocolat Chaud

Glorious sunshine and a lack of snowfall proved to be a blessing and a curse when the time came for my ski lessons in the French Alps. La Salle Les Alpes is located in the resort of Serre Chevalier Vallée and there are a number of slopes nearby. We drove minutes down the road the Monday before Christmas to check out the ski gear I would need for the day.

I wore numerous layers, not because I was concerned I would be cold, but out of concern for how many times I was anticipated I would fall. So I waddled into the ski shop, rocking my borrowed ski pants, to shove my feet into the most awkwardly uncomfortable boots I've ever worn. I selected some poles, grabbed my borrowed skis, and slowly made my way to the lift. 

What is more terrifying than riding in an unstable, though thankfully enclosed, lift to the top of a mountain over the duration of five minutes? Having to manage your way into the capsule while it's moving and your wearing the uncomfortable above mentioned items. I was sweating bullets just thinking about it.

After successfully making it on board, we arrived at the top around 11:00, half an hour early for our ski lessons. This meant I had some time to put on the skis and attempt to propel myself around a mini hill with my ski poles. There may be some people who place skis on their feet and immediately glide around with ease, I am not one of them. I did okay in the initial stages, until I began to slide back. I didn't know how to stop. There are throngs of children behind me (who are all skiing far better than I, by the way..) and I'm envisioning myself ending in a snowbank as I take some of them out on my way down. Tom had to grab and drag me to safety before I caused such a catastrophe.

This days lesson would run for two hours. I was given the run down on proper stance, which involved leaning into the horrid boots and leaving me with a bruise that is still healing, and told to navigate my way around sans poles. Before I was cleared to enter the bunny hill, I tried going down a minuscule slope to how learn to stop and get a feel for my skis. Tom accompanied me to my lessons for moral support, but once bunny hill time began it was just me and the toddlers.

To get to the beginning of the bunny hill, you have to conquer a small downhill slope. The instructor went down backwards in front of me, it didn't do much good though as I went flying under her legs seconds in. She stopped me and gently navigated me to safety, no harm done. 

I feel I excelled at the super basics. Go down a hill? Great. Learn to stop? Somewhat. Learn to turn in an intentional manner, both directions? That's where I got lost. I could turn very well one way, but it was purely by accident. This meant I didn't know the proper mechanics of how to turn and inevitably ended up (intentionally) colliding with a foam covered pole to stop as I continued to turn into a crowd of children. Although, the children could ski better than I, so really they should have moved out of my way. Just a thought.

That sun though. It was wonderful. I wasn't cold, had I spent those two hours freezing I don't know that I would have survived the full lesson. It also made me feel athletic, as I knew I would have a bitchin sunglasses tan line from my day on the slopes. The sun was terrible, too. It meant there was less snow, and the snow that was on the ground felt soft after a few runs. I blame its mushiness for my unsuccessful stopping. 

Two hours came and went quickly. By the time the end came, I was certainly getting burnt out and frustrated. I couldn't figure out how to turn and was mentally spent. After a well deserved lunch, everyone else headed back while I grabbed a chocolat chaud and waited for them.

My preferred version of Christmas day skiing

I didn't return for skiing the rest of the week. However on Christmas I brought my Kindle and relaxed with, what else, a chocolat chaud while the others went out on the slopes. I will forever be grateful I took those lessons, the feeling of skiing is one of a kind, but I don't know it is something I care to master. I will probably spend all of my future time skiing on the bunny hill with children who are far more fearless than myself!