Yukon Chatter Bug

Heading down a snowy knoll, I can hear the ski instructor call out, “Wider, Carole, wider!” Yes, I know what I have to do, but I just can’t do it. So, my legs start getting farther and farther apart, and I can see the snow being “ploughed” by my skis. Finally, I fall face first in the snow after having done the splits for the first time in thirty years.

I don’t feel any pain, though I make my way back up the knoll avoiding eye-contact with anyone that might have seen the spectacle. Right out of a comic strip.

Then last Thursday, I head down a steeper hill to practice the snowplough. I made it to the bottom of the hill, screaming on my way down but proud to have made it in a vertical position, until I got near the bottom that is.

Since my four cross-country ski lessons started, I’ve been to the chiropractor a couple of times now. My knee, my hip, and my neck simultaneously scream for attention.

No, skiing is NOT like riding a bicycle. I have cross-country skiied in the past (a long time ago), but I don’t remember falling as much. I feel like I’m starting at square one.

I guess it’s one of those things: no pain, no gain. I’ll take a rest and try it again. Hopefully, I’ll have a few pictures for you.