Even though I haven’t been skiing long, it always amazes me just how beautiful the mountains and trails are.
Skiing is in another dimension itself. I remember my first time getting on a lift. I was so nervous and unsure because I had just barely learned how to turn, and now I was expected to ski down a hill.
Getting off the lift, I shakely skied to the top of the hill and looked down.
It was daunting, the hill looked so much steeper than it really was. Even though I was so nervous, I felt alive.
The air was clean, the day was beautiful and I fell in love with where I was, even if I was just learning.
That feeling never goes away either.
Everytime I snap my skis on it always gives me an exciting feeling which intertwines with nervousness.
The sport is constantly pushing me and constantly teaching me. Maybe that’s why so many people love it.
When going down a trail for the first time, and I mean an actual trail, I was scared out my mind.
I saw a sea of skiers and snowboarders weaving through the snow with such ease and patience.
My friend never gave up on helping me learn, no matter how much I complained or fell.
I think the faith my friend had in me instilled the faith I later found in myself.
When letting my skis slide down my first ever trail, I concentrated so hard on turning and taking a manageable pace.
Every turn I made without wiping out made me feel like I was on top of the world, like I was accomplishing something that I had always wanted to do and learn.
The second time I ever went skiing, my friend took me to the very top.
We climbed a bank of snow that led us to a deck.
For miles you could see the tops of snow-capped trees, the colors of the pine needles so much darker than I had ever seen them before.
The mountain range blew my mind, how beautiful, how picture-perfect it truly was.
Looking at the distant mountains and how they became one with the blue sky was breathtaking.
I could have sat up there for hours and just looked out at the world, because that’s what it feels like.
When you’re at the top of the mountain you’re in a whole other world, a whole different dimension.
There’s a silence that is so perfect and all you can hear is the wind and distance voices.
There is no other feeling in the world, no other place that can give you that exact feeling.
When the sun goes down and the lifts close, people from all over mingle at the resort.
They laugh and dance and play music.
Some sit by the fire and talk about their days and some grab last minute waffles.
I don’t think you really ever truly come out of this spell until you get out of your car at home.
Reality is lost when at the mountain, and a paradise is found.
Caroline Perry can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org