Ski, Little Speed Demon!

OK, so one of my favorite things in the whole entire world is downhill skiing.  Not to brag too much, but I have been doing it for 24.5 years, and my 27th birthday is later this month.  So, it is something I just know how to do.  This, coupled with the fact that I have no frame of reference of learning it, made it very hard for me to learn how to cross country ski (not that I am very good at that anyways).  I learned how to ski in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

big brother 'n me in Michigan

It was a small hill, I mean there are some good sized ones in Michigan, but compared to the west, they are small.  But it was a fun place, and when you don't know any better then it is great.  We went up to the cabin all the time.  Summer or winter, but it was always the most fun in the winter.

Montana

Especially when you know the hill backwards and forwards and there is nothing you can't ski there.  Don't get me wrong there is a hill or two I avoid now a days.  Otterslide for one because it always has the moguls and I hate moguls, at least pre-made ones, cause I haven't switched to the shorter more contoured skis yet. (I refuse to unless I have to). There are some others, for whatever reason, I just don't like skiiing on.  We were a little spoiled growing up, because our parents did have this cabin in the UP.  But we didn't go skiiing in the west until almost high school.  But like I said we didn't know any better.  But once we started going west, well it was a completely different world.  Loved it either way!

big brother 'n me in Montana

I love skiing fast, so fast my eyes water.  And I take a ridiculously large number of  short turns.  It helps, it really does.  When I was little I used to try to use my arms as propellers to get more speed.  Sometimes I like to tuck go, just long turns with my hands practically touching the snow.  A little speed demon, I was, and the boys (my brothers, friends, even my dad) always wanted to race me.  But they never told me until it was over-IF they beat me down the hill.  Silly boys, I always won then, and still do now!

My dad loved this, he claims they weren't laughing at me, but there are enough pictures for me to assume they were.  What I loved is that that I landed with my head downhill and the one ski stabbing into the snow, holding me to the mountain.