When I reached the top of the ski lift, I hesitated. The “bunny hill” seemed more intimidating than its name. The ground and the ski lodge seemed miles away, tucked behind the pine trees, and the slope descended in twists and turns.
Concerned, I turned to my mom. “So...do I just jump?” I knew how difficult it was to walk in the ski boots, and I could not imagine how to get off the moving chair.
She shook her head, glancing at the couple in front of us. “No, it looks like you just put your skis on the ground and slide off the seat.”
Neither of us knew much about skiing, but the ski course did not seem too difficult. Young kids, buried in layers of winter gear, were gliding around with ease. If a …show more content…
We talked to the father and son in front of us while we waited. They had traveled across the country to ski, while our family had only driven two hours. After living in Utah for a year, we decided it was time for us all to try a mountain sport.
On the lift, the view was astounding. Among the spring snow, the mountains were crisp and clear. The skis had created smooth pathways on the snow, like vanilla icing. I was too much in awe to say anything to Dallin. Our lift was far away from any noise, and my breaths came out in puffs into the hushed air. Peeking rocks hid beneath the mounds of silent snow, and the trees were bundled in white. I dangled my feet above the empty air, stunned by how far away everything was.
The ski chair descended to the summit of the slope, and I expertly coasted to the start. I noticed the people in front of us had taken off without hesitation. Others, too, seemed at ease while they flew across the slick surface. For a moment, I wondered if the slope was going to be too hard, since they all looked much more experienced than me. But I saw my brother had already started, and I waved the thought