First day on skis…

This season, the opening day at Park City was scheduled for November 19 but was delayed until this Sunday, the 28th. As anyone would expect, I joined the crazies who packed up a narrow ribbon of man-made snow at the Canyons and began sliding.

At my age, this seasonal ritual becomes important as I take it as a measure of my keeping up with the requirements of skiing and measuring any form of decline that could threaten my future on boards. Some say that after 70, each single year counts for two. 

First, putting on the ski boots was a bit of an ordeal, but soon my feet made peace with the liners stiffened up by a long resting summer, then when I began to slide on a snow that felt more like spring slush than early winter powder, I felt fine and just the very same as I remember being more than seven month ago.

I avoided colliding with anyone, went over a bunch of monster moguls quite gracefully (I thought), and had passed this opening test with flying colors. While conditions could be rated at super-mediocre, the experience was vastly superior than not skiing at all. 

In fact, I enjoyed myself so much that I took eight short runs and resurrected into skiing for my 69th winter season!