i can still feel, taste, smell the fear of the first time i had to get on a chairlift. i was probably 9 and not all that afraid anything, really. until ( ! ) until, i had to coordinate my courage with the timing of a moving chair that would sweep me up into the sky. there was a conversation or two with my father about how this would happen and he assured me that i would be fine. he might have compared it to how i survived my first dive into the deep end of my grandparent’s pool. there might have been a bribe that involved some bad ass goggles at the base of the mountain. that’s if i got to the top and skied down. let’s just say i wanted to wear my goggles to dinner that night. a badge of honor and a love for the slopes. [ via brokenmachine ]
i love snow and can’t wait to hit the slopes
keep a tally of the things I cannot easily have in New York City. This falls somewhere below “three large, stinky dogs”...
i lived in alaska for like 8 years, and i’ve never rode one of these things. wtf is that shit?! i’ve never even went...
i am awful at skiing. like terrible. but the lifts are fun.
After 20 years, I’ll finally have my first snowboarding/skiing experience.