I Didn't Die

(Note: This is a post from a long time ago, when we were in Cortina in Italy. You all probably know that we are now in Paris, but I'm publishing this because it somehow wasn't published when it was supposed to be. This post is supposed to take place between YOLO and Istanbul. Hope you enjoy!)

Actually, the fact that I didn't die is quite an accomplishment considering all that was done.

Hehe, that was a pretty dramatic and VERY misleading beginning. But no, it's not as interesting as one would think, I just didn't die skiing MY FIRST DOUBLE BLACK DIAMOND EVER!!!!! Course, the snow was really soft. And it wasn't like back home at Tahoe where there are eight-year-olds skiing double black diamonds like a boss for the sole purpose of being karma's agents and making me feel like a lumbering untalented idiot. But I was still proud of myself. Very proud of myself, because as you can see I DIDN'T DIE. Actually while I was skiing down (slowly, with wide turns, I might add) I kept imagining this blog post and how I would brag about not dying and then wondered if I did die whether my parents would post some sort of eulogy on here, like, "she was a great person who died too young in a tragic skiing accident," and imagining the local Italian news, like, "dumb untalented American skier girl dies on ski slope on Cristallo!" All of which is definitely NOT the kind of thinking you want to have while skiing down your first black diamond. 

So like I said last time, we were in Cortina d'Ampezzo, a town in the Dolomites, with my cousins Giugi and Ella for a week. (By the way the Dolomites are part of the Alps, a fact that I hadn't known previously. The Alps are so huge that they're divided into different mountain ranges!!!) It was really nice. The first day we went ice skating, which I was terrible at since I hadn't done in years and our rental skates looked like they had been brand new in 1956 when Cortina held the Olympics. The second day we went to a pool, which sounds stupid because it was around freezing every single day but the pool and the the giant room it was held in were heated. And there was a huge waterslide. It was weirdly awesome. Then for the next four days we went skiing! I felt like a pretty accomplished skier because Cortina is not as extreme as Tahoe, where everyone is better than you, even the little elementary aged kids. The expert runs were not as hard as the ones back home, which was great because I felt like I could actually focus on my form, which I think greatly improved over the past few weeks in Bad Mitterndorf and Cortina. As my mom, the expert skier, says, "Speed will come from good form but good form will not come from speed." Or something like that, it just sounds like a zen ninja master and makes you think of an elderly Japanese guy with a band around his head and a super long beard. Heh, that's a funny thought, my mom meditating in a zen garden or something with a giant beard. "Approach, young apprentice, and speak your mind." Or like Yoda, "Try not! Do or do not. There is no try." Heh. I'm getting kind of distracted. Welcome to the weird fantasies of my world. ;D

Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, my form really improved and I felt like Wonder Woman on skis. Especially because on the first day we took a wrong turn and ended up on a mogul field that was a solid sheet of ice with the exception of giant bare dirt spots and again, I didn't die. Actually that's a good story, too, but I'll give you a shorter version: I went down the entire thing fuming about the navigational error and then I was all mad at the bottom and my dad was all like, "Think of it in a good way. I'm just thinking, 'Damn. I can't believe I survived that.'" Which made me feel a lot better. 

So then the next day my dad said, "Look, there's a steep expert slope at the top of Cristallo. Do you want to  do it?" I was all like, "Sign me up!" because all the other experts so far had been the equivalent of the more difficult blue squares back home. And my uncle said that it was pretty easy: no moguls or bare spots, all groomed, just pretty steep but very wide. So I volunteered and my brother was persuaded to as well. 

For those of you who have ever skied or snowboarded and found yourself stranded on something that's way out of your skill level, you know how slopes look a lot less steep from the lift than they do when you're at the top of them. So we're going up and my brother, who is all talk but who actually knows his limits, was saying stuff like, "that's so easy," and "I did harder things last year" and "we'll be going down it like a boss!" I just nodded and laughed, 'cause it didn't look all that hard to me either and my brother likes to talk tough. But then we get off at the top, and we're looking at the edge of the world. I couldn't even tell how steep it was. Looks like you were wrong, Columbus, the world sure ain't round, 'cause I found the edge and it's at the top of Mount Cristallo in Cortina d'Ampezzo, a little town in the Dolomites. And the edge of the world sure does have a hell of a lot of moguls. 

My brother was brave, for all his talk. He went first, got stuck on a mogul not even ten feet from the top, and couldn't get up again. I decided to turn my focus from him to THE EDGE OF THE WORLD that I was about to ski down. Luckily for me (and luckily for you, because you all need me to grace you with my incredible sense of humor) the snow was really soft and I could just cut across the whole mountain and make sharp turns. Still, it was steep, and really long. It probably took us about half an hour to make it down. I looked up and saw my brother taking his skis off and scrambling up the mountain. I could hear the mountain shaking with laughter. It had defeated one of our number. But it was an honorable exit; in fact, a few adults also took the opportunity to go back on the chair lift. It's good to know your limits. 

How can I describe this? It was steep, ungroomed, and entirely made up of moguls without a single flat spot in between. I mean, I can do steep. Not like KT22 steep--that I reserve for my Uncle Koji--but had I been on a flat slope that was just as steep as that, it would have been no problem, a mild challenge to spice things up. Heck, even if it were just as steep and ungroomed. But the moguls--now that got me. For those of you who don't ski, to a skier who is not adept at moguls (such as myself), that's like learning how to run, picking up one foot at a time, and then suddenly someone throws an obstacle right under your feet and suddenly you have to entirely change the pattern of your running to accomodate it. Skiing requires turning, yes, but instead of being able to turn whenever you feel like it the moguls control when you can turn. And if the moguls are closely spaced you have to half-jump and almost switch your skis in midair. At least, if you're good at them, the way my mom is. If you're not, you just end up skiing across a bunch of them all the way across the trail, then turn quickly and ski all the way to the other side of the trail, and then turn again, on and on, slowly winding down the mountain. I was a little bit better than that, but not much. 

Anyway, I somehow made it all the way down, bent over, toes and knuckles clenched with fear and focus, the sun beating down but me too unwilling to break my focus long enough to take off my gloves. I just slowly wound down the mountain and let weird thoughts flit across my mind, nearly delirious. At one point I almost lost a pole, but I NEVER FELL DOWN ONCE. It was all right in the end; we made it all the way down and I could feel myself letting out a breath I hadn't known I was holding, unclenching my fingers and toes, straightening up, letting a smile fill my face as a wave of relief crashed over me. 

That was the most dramatic part of my experience in Cortina. Well, my brother's reaction to the news that we wouldn't have wifi for the week was pretty dramatic, too. :D But overall it was very fun and relaxing. Unfortunately, my cousin Ella was sick  most of the time, which meant that instead of being a firecracker she acted like a normal kid who smiles and talks a bit and watches cartoons. It was unsettling, really. Fortunately she was better by the end of our stay to celebrate her 6th birthday. She's so cute and funny and amazing, I love her! 

On our last night we went out to dinner all together: my parents, my brother, me, my cousins Giulia and Ella, and my Auntie Gioia and Uncle Chuck. Then the four of us got in our filthy rental car and drove all the way down to Venice to the soundtrack of Paul Simon and Queen. I've had Slip Sliding Away stuck in my head ever since. We got to the city late that night and the next morning had breakfast, dropped our car off at a parking lot, and headed to the airport. We then flew to Istanbul on two short flights with a layover in between. It was pretty cool; we had breakfast in Venice, lunch in Rome, and dinner in Istanbul! 

Of course our adventures in Istanbul so far require an entirely different post. Mainly because I already have a pretty awesome title picked out. So until then! ;)