Meriden Ski Club Newsletter - July/August 2010 Newsletter

On days I know I will be going skiing, I don't even need to set an alarm clock. I think skiing gets programmed into my circadian rhythm. I grab my bag and hit the road. The drive up the mountain gets me very anxious to put my skis on. Once at the resort, I walk up from the parking lot to the lodge. On the way up I get my first glimpse of the hill. I see what the snow conditions are like, and how many people are already there. I can hear the lifts running and people snapping into bindings. I go up to the ticket booth and purchase a lift ticket. Then I put on my ski pants, jacket, gloves, and goggles. But the sound of buckling my ski boots, and the feeling of them tightening up and supporting my feet make me realize that I'm almost ready to hit the mountain.

As you click into your bindings and skate up to the lift, I can feel the tension building. While waiting in line I look around and see all the people skiing down with smiles on their faces. The lift attendant tells me to ski out and wait for the chair to come around. I sit down for a peaceful ride up to the top. Most people are talking about what trail they want to go down, or what the conditions are like, but I don't. I figure it out when I'm up at the top. Right before I get to the summit, I lift the bar up and get ready to disembark from the chair. Skiing off the chair is a relief. I take in the view, smell the crisp cold air, and hear the crunch of the snow under my skis. I slip my hands through the straps on my ski poles. Now I am at the verge of total freedom.

As I glide toward the first descent, I feel the wind in my face. My legs are moving from side to side controlling my speed as I turn. The trail is a perfect corduroy textured groomed trail, a nice warm up run. I bomb it and as I lean over with my uphill hand almost touching the snow I carve through the turn with the momentum of a freight train. The next turn is graceful with surprising power. All the gravitational forces pushing through your legs onto two little metal edges is all that's keeping you planted to the snow. You're the maestro to a chaotically smooth symphony, on the verge of peaceful destruction. By the bottom of the trail my legs are burning, but it feels good. Different trails bring different sensations. A 50 degree pitched chute with exposed boulders and tight trees is way different than a wide open cruiser. It is like comparing a pomegranate to a banana. Throughout the day I go where I want, stop for lunch, and keep skiing.

The atmosphere of the mountain is totally different than anywhere else. The people are very friendly. Everyone at the slope has something in common with me. It is a subtle vibe that is flowing through people's bloodstreams. Changing back into regular clothes in the lodge with a nice cup of hot cocoa, talking about the day with people you have never meet before. The comraderie that is shared by all is a great feeling. You can see it in people's faces. It is awesome to see a parent with children jumping around shouting they've had a great time. Walking back to your vehicle with friends or family, it doesn't matter who, all that matters is that you've shared a spectactacular day together.
While skiing I don't think about work, money, or what people think of me. When you're skiing you do your own thing and it doesn't matter if you impress anyone. Skiing is all about letting go of society and grabbing hold of my inner being, my driving force. It is one of the greatest feelings there is. Skiing is an all natural high. There is an unexplainable magnetism that draws people back to the mountain. This is why I love to ski.