Mom's Worst Birthday Present Ever (Titled in Hindsight)

First off: Happy Birthday Mom.


So Aaron and Diana have gone back to Michigan, the house has been cleaned up, the beer is out of my system, and things are returning to as close as things can get to normal in this everyday fantasy camp.

It was nice to do all the "tourist" stuff again. Went up to Lake Louise, Johnston Canyon, Bow Falls, etc etc. All that stuff that Bonnie and I never do for the same reason that people living in Orlando never go to Disneyworld. All were, of course, spectacular. We also dined out way too many times, at some restuarants that were just too fancy for us. Good times all around, however. You too, can enjoy the mountains, teh fantastic weather, the good food, and the great company. *nudge nudge*

I also managed to drive my car into a ditch and decimate one of my skis. Let's talk briefly about these.

The car thing was my fault. Aaron was trying to take a picture on the way home from Sunshine so i tried to stop the car for him and drove onto what appeared to be the shoulder but was just snow. My car sank in to it and that was that. Luckily, we had a 6-pack of beer in the trunk. We looked pretty awesome standing on the side of the road next to my car that was probably at a 45degree angle or better drinking beer and looking unconcerned. Why unconcerned? Because we were using Onstar to call for a tow. Worked great!! By the time I got off hold with them, a guy who worked at Sunshine had already been called by a passing bus driver and came by with his truck to pull us out. Then I couldn't get off hold with the girl who was still trying to get me a tow, so I called up Onstar on my cell phone to tell them I was on hold with somebody else. And that girl put me on hold. Solid.

Then the skis. I don't think ths was my fault - entirely. Of course, I was "driving" them but my doom could not have been forseen. I was going down some double-blacks and ducking the "ski area boundary" fence (oooooo rebel), as I had been all day. Great snow, miles of powder, lots of small cliffs to huck off (that means drop). Good times all around. Lots of rocks too. Rocks tend to come in a few varieties on these runs:

1 - the kind that just stick out of the snow
2 - the kind that cause the snow to form a lump above them
3 - the kind that hides underneath the snow with no visible markings, except that they are near other rocks that fall in to one of my previous categories.

I hit kind 4: the kind that hides underneath the snow with no visible markings, including other rocks nearby.

So I flew through the air and rolled down the hill and rolled so more and noticed a fast-approaching rock getting missile lock on my kidney and pushed myself to the side and eventually came to a stop a good distance away from where I had started.

First shocker: I still had 1 ski on. Cool! Less hiking!
Second shocker: My 2nd ski had come to a stop only a couple feet from where I was sitting. No hike necessary!
3rd shocker: my ski binding was in several pieces and scattered around the "Crash site"

Well now...THAT is interesting.

Since I was out-of-bounds at the time, I thought I would just do the full inspection when I got back but...how to get back? I had 1 ski and was easily 2 miles from teh nearest station. Crap. Well there was no way I was going to miss out on the powder stash that cost me, at the very least, a binding. So I tucked my busted ski under my arm, put my binding fragments in the backpack I was thankfully wearing, and rode down that powder stash on one ski. Smooth.

I then proceeded to go down a length, black-rated creekbed on one ski.

Confident now, I started doing tricks down the cat track back to the station. I fell, all in all, probably about 4-5 times, including rest breaks for my screaming right leg. Of course, there was bid motivation to not fall. Usually, when I fell, I droppde my broken ski that no longer had a binding and thus also had no breaks. That thing sailed down the run until it hit a tree everytime I dropped it. Sometimes quite far.

Back at the station, I had time to assess the damage. Aside from the previously mentioned broken binding (which literally exploded on the underside), I had:

-a 170cm long "core shot" down the underside of my 175cm ski
-a quarter-sized hole in the tail of my ski

Aw crap.

Took the poor thing around town, made a few people look like they wanted to cry (i have nice skis. very nice skis), found a binding replacement for 1/6th of the purchase price for an employee not worried about the karma from ripping off his store for a little cash in his pocket, and ultimately gave it to the ski tech in town who used to tune the skis for the Canadian National Ski Team (I don't fool around). He grimaced and said "3 days".

For ski tunes that usually are done overnight, that's a long time.

I am, however, pleased to report that not only are my babies fixed, but they were "suped-up" by this guy as well and that I, miraculously (despite a binding exploding under my foot and hitting a rock hard enough to puncture my ski), escaped completely unscathed. My only regret is that I didn't take a picture of the carnage.

So there's my 2 stories of me breaking things. Sorry for that 2nd one, mum :p

In other news, the boss OK'd my trip home in the summer. So Bonnie and I are fully confirmed for July. me for a month, Bonnie for 2 weeks. Looking forward to it!