Day Trips
By Gerald E. McLeod, Fri., Dec. 6, 1996
Twenty-five years later, my first real experience at skiing was a disaster. My ego was as bruised as my rib cage. The only sure way I found of stopping was throwing my body to the ground. It worked, but I could hardly breathe the next day.
Five years later I went on my second ski trip (not including the hill in Nebraska). I actually moved from the bunny slope to the novice slope. When I learned how to stop without throwing myself to the ground, flying down a slippery mountain became more like an amusement park ride.
After two days of the easy slopes, I let a friend talk me into going up the mountain. We grabbed the last lift of the day going skyward. I discovered a whole new world I didn't know existed past the parking lots, lodge, and ski lifts. The mountain was covered with pine trees and white snow for miles. My heart was pounding with excitement and a growing fear.
Everything went well the first little bit. I skied a little ways, fell, skied, and fell. The space between falls varied, so I thought that is how it is supposed to be. Does anybody make it down the mountain without falling? Being the last of the skiers on the mountain, every time I fell, the ski patrol was there to help me up. They started asking if I needed a ride down on a snowmobile. I kept putting them off with a cheerful, "Not yet," until I hit a group of moguls (bumps) that sent me sliding at breakneck speeds before throwing me wildly into a snow bank. This time, I accepted the ski patrol's offer.
The snowmobile ride down the last three-quarters of the mountain was the worth the price of the lift ticket. I hardly remember the vibrating machine ever touching the ground as we passed skiers. The towers holding up the lift cables looked like a picket fence.
We slid to a stop in front of the ski lodge and I climbed off shaking from the vibration and the thrill. I yelled at the driver over the roar of the motor, "That was great. Let's do it again." For the first time I saw my chauffeur's face. He was a burly guy with a matted and dirty beard; his smile revealed gaps where teeth were missing. "You might not say that if you knew I turned over one of these puppies this morning," he yelled before roaring off in a puff of gas fumes.
For first-time skiers -- and I still count myself as one -- I recommend they invest in a minimum of equipment. A cheap ski bib, gloves, and maybe goggles will set you back less than $50 in Austin. Rent your equipment in the town closest to the ski area. Take lessons; the price is usually little more than the cost of the lift ticket and well worth it. And don't tell anybody you skied on the plains of Nebraska.
Although it may not be a day trip, New Mexico has the ski resorts closest to Austin. Ruidosa is about 12 hours from Austin or 130 miles north of El Paso. Airline service is also available to Albuquerque. For more information, check out these numbers: New Mexico, 800/545-2050, http://www.nets.com/skinm; Colorado, http://www.aescon.com/ski/index.htm, 800/433-2656; and Utah, 800/538-1030.
Coming up this weekend...
La Bahia Celebration at the presidio in Goliad will open the store rooms of the largest collection of Spanish colonial artifacts in the U.S., for one day only. Other events include Las Posadas Procession, Frontier Rendezvous, and Pony Express ride , Dec. 7. 512/645-3752.
Christmas Stroll through the streets of Salado lined with luminarias until 10pm, Dec. 6-7. 817/947-5040.
Candlelight Tour of Conservation Plaza in New Braunfels decorates the historic buildings for the season, Dec. 7. 210/629-1572.
Dickens on the Strand turns the old harbor area of Galveston into a Victorian village, Dec. 7-8. 409/765-7834.
Coming up...
Texas Christmas Tree Grower's Directory lists pick-and-cut farms around the state. Ask for one from the Agriculture Department, 463-7462.
Day Trips, Vol.1, a book of the first 100 day trips from this column, updated and expanded, is available for $6.95, plus $3.05 for shipping and tax. Mail to: Day Trips, 1712 E. Riverside Dr., Box 156, Austin, TX 78741.
