Any of you do this? Have a few beers at lunch? Possibly a beer on the lift?
I'm asking this question because twice lately I've been on lifts with people cracking open a beer. Both times have been at Snowbasin. Both times on the Strawberry lift.
I was at Snowbasin the end of January, Jamesdeluxe and I were riding the Strawberry Gondola. It was one of the first rides of the day, at the most ten o'clock. One of our car mates procures a beer from his coat and proceeds to down it on the ride up.
Two weeks later I'm riding up with Powderwhore, two guys with us. Both of them find Bud Lights from their jackets. This was about eleven o'clock.
I've friends back in Michigan that equate a skiing trip to a drinking festival. I've skied drunk twice, both times with bad results.
Example #1:
Time: December, 1991 or so
Place: Sugarloaf, Michigan
Situation: As follows...
A friend of mine's parents owned a condo in Sutton's Bay. This is a rather upscale town and a perfect setting for a drunken fest before hitting the slopes. The participants were myself, Andy, and Dennis.
We arrived at the "mountain" armed for bear. In the parking lot we divided up a half gallon of peppermint schnappes into three bota bags. What would a skiing trip be without a bota bag of schnappes?
We proceeded to ski the entire day while taking breaks to down shots. Every three lift rides down the puny hill we retire into the bar. Towards the end of the day the waitresses in the bar know us all by name.
It gets dark and the night skiing begins...
All three of us are by now quite inebriated. Sugarloaf has one TRIPLE BLACK DIAMOND run. Awful, Awful, Awful is the name of this intimidating swath of midwestern steepness. Mind you this run isn't lit, it runs under one of the "backside" lifts. Being as I'm quite drunk at this point I convince my two fellow skiers we should venture down this run.
Now of course I've been skiing out West for years, I can ski Michigan hills with my eyes closed, and drunk...
Being both solid intermediates my partners argue against this. Of course being the superior debater I capitalize on their manliness. "What are you guys pussies?"
We ride the frontside lift up and pause at the top of the rope guarding Awful, Awful, Awful. I once again insult their sexual preferences.
A quick duck under the rope and I'm carving turns under the lift. This run had no tracks upon it, purely untouched...
My second turn I discover why there are no tracks. It would seem to be because there is indeed also no snow. Midway through my second turn I discover a stump which protrudes an entire 3 inches from the ground. Hitting said stump ejects me downhill into the maw of this stunning chute. During my ejection I manage to catch my chin on another unidentified object.
Next thing I know I find myself at the bottom of the "backside" somewhat dazed. I look down and see my pullover shell now has a tear down to the waistband. While noticing the tear in my coat I realize I am bleeding, a fitting touch to my ruined coat.
I make my way to the lift line. While sitting there in the line I'm bleeding profusely from my chin. A girl in line ahead of me notices, "Do you know you are bleeding?" she says. I barely stammer out, "Yeah, I think I am."
Example #2
Time: January, 1992 or so
Place: Sugarloaf, Michigan
Situation: As follows...
Timeline, two weeks later. My chin is healed up and I'm ready for another drunken ski trip. We drive back up to Sutton's Bay with the same crew.
The same drunken fest occurs. After all, I only hurt my face last time, no harm no foul. The waitresses by now REALLY know our names. Pitchers in the bar are cheaper this time.
Same thing, night time comes. This time I once again am quite proud of my skiing technique. I decide to show my friends how I can ski. After all, I've skied out West, I could ski these hills drunk easily!
There I am, showing off on a blue run, watch me! Next thing I know I'm spinning out of control into a tree. I pick myself up off the ground and am ready to go. A few runs later we decide to call it a day.
I'm told I passed out in the car on the way back to the condo. Next thing I know I wake up in the car using a pair of skis for a pillow. At the time I think I walked up the stairs into my assigned room...
Next thing I know it's morning and I have to piss badly. I attempt to get up, my knee seems to think different. After crawling down the stairs on my ass I figured out that something was wrong.
I was off work for a week while unable to walk.
These two examples showed me that skiing and drinking weren't in my bag of tricks. I'm quite good at just skiing, or just drinking. But, I'm not good at mixing them up.
Any of you good at both? Can you carve turns after downing beers?
BobMc
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