Skiing

As a young boy I owned a pair of skis and went skiing. Note that I didn’t say I learned to ski. Such a statement would be using the word” l earned” very loosely... I grew up on the avenues in Salt Lake which is in the foothills. My skis were wooden slabs without binders except for a leather strap. We did not have access to ski lifts or tows. We packed the snow down walking up the slopes side ways. . We than would point the skis down hill and away I would go. I broke two pairs of skis before I was seventeen. The first pair broke in half when I was going down the mountain out of control and hit a drift of deep powered snow. I made a number of summersaults and ended up with two short skis. The second pair broke when I attempted to avoid running over my dog and in doing so I hit a tree. The dog was fine but not the skis.

Shortly after this time I joined the navy and later went on an L>D.S. mission. My skiing days as a youth were over.

Skiing, part 2. Began after I was married and had children. Each year the ski resorts and the local paper offered skiing lesions as a minimal cost. “Dad, as long as you have to drive us to the ski resort for lessons, why don’t you take lessons with us?” Their request sounded reasonable so I signed up with my kids. Various classes were taught by college students. I was the only adult in our class. I wasn’t worried because I thought I knew how to ski. The course would be a brush up. Two experiences convinced me I was wrong. The first experience was when I wanted to show our instructor how I could turn. (