Episode 2: Skiing in NZ – The nightmare continues
There are some people who say they got hooked on skiing immediately. I am NOT one of those people. In fact, I disliked skiing immensely, and the “dislike” grew more intense the more I skied, due in part to a boyfriend I skied with, but which story I will share with you in another post. At this point, however, on the second day of skiing Coronet Peak in New Zealand, and despite nearly having wiped out an entire ski school the previous day, I was still at the “mild dislike” stage.
After Margaret (Maggie) and I laughed ourselves silly over dinner the previous night at our skiing feats, we were looking forward with anticipation to our second day on the slopes.
I wisely exchanged my racing skis for something far more appropriate and Maggie and I braved the mountain yet again.
I might mention at this point that prior to my leaving for NZ, an older and very glamorous woman told me that I would simply love skiing, because when one falls over, all these gorgeous men come to your rescue and help you back on your feet.
So, the first challenge of the day was to tackle the pommer. Since New Zealand, I have only discovered one other pommer in existence, which is located at Powder Mountain near Ogden, Utah – and there’s a reason for that as I will explain. A pommer is a plate on a pulley that you put between your thighs and which sits under your bottom (Americans would use the world “fanny”, but we 
Australians know never to use that word in public…don’t we Heidi?) The idea is that the pulley pulls you up the mountain and then, at the appropriate time – when you reach the end of the line, you remove this plate from between your thighs by pulling down on the pulley with a free hand (because you’ve got your poles in the other) and let it swing off to the left, while you ski off to the right. Now this sounds great in theory, but in practical terms, it’s totally ludicrous!
The first thing EVERYONE does is what is the most natural thing in the world to do when you have something between your thighs that resembles a seat – you sit down. NO!!! Even though the person loading you on the pommer tells you NOT to sit down, you do! It would be like telling someone to “take a seat” but they are expected to just “hover” over the chair. Ridiculous! So, after a couple of embarrassing moments of sitting on the pommer and landing on my bottom, I kind of got the gist of it, and let the pommer pull me. This pommer was a little tricky (surprise, surprise), because there were two points at which you could exit – well, actually, one point at which you could exit, and one point you must exit. The first one was just half way up the mountain and was for beginner skiers, and the second and final stop was for more advanced skiers. Well, as I was approaching the first exit point – my exit point – I got myself ready, only to find I had no way of getting this plate out from between my legs! Aarrrggghh!!! I missed the moment. So I continued up the mountain, which seemed awfully steep. Oh my God!!!! So, as I approached the end of the line – and I mean this – the end of the line, the pulley lifted me off into the air, the plate dislodged itself from where it was, and I was then careening down towards a narrow ledge at the end of which was a cliff!Goodness knows how I stopped. All I can say is that my guardian angel was with me that day. Remember, at this point, all I knew how to do was snow-plow, so with me chanting to myself: “I can do it, I can do it”, I took off down a very narrow and what seemed, steep, slope. Maggie had managed to remove herself from the pommer at the first exit and was kindly waiting for me.
Well, to be expected, I fell. Remembering what my very glamorous friend had told me that a plethora of gorgeous mountain men would come to my rescue, I waited…and waited…and waited. Now I figure that the reason no-one stopped to help me resume a vertical position was because they, themselves, were unable to stop. Or was it because these guys were Australian and Kiwis and could care less? That must be it! So, I lay on the snow for about ten minutes before I decided that I had to take matters into my own hands. Success! I got up and managed to ski the rest of the way without incident. Phew!
I met Maggie at the bottom of the mountain and headed off for a well needed lunch – and my secret supply of Dom Benedictine. Someone – and I don’t think it was the older and very glamorous friend, advised me to take a nip of alcohol with me for relaxation purposes, so I put some DB into a film container (remember, this was 1982 and before digital and also when DB was quite a trendy liqueur), which I then put in my pocket for emergencies. After my near death experience, I felt that a swig was definitely required. But you see, the problem with alcohol is that it can make you bullet proof, so when Maggie and I met a couple who suggested we come up on the chairlift with them, I was ready! Or was I?
Stay tuned….
Episode 1: Let’s go skiing…to New Zealand
I think it was 1981 or 1982 (but seriously, it was so long ago, who can remember?) when my girlfriend, Margaret, suggested we go on a ski trip to Queenstown, New Zealand – a seriously beautiful part of the world for those of you who have not visited. I had never skied before, nor had I been successful at roller skating or ice-skating, but I was reasonably sporty, so thought that while it might be a challenge, it would be one I could overcome…easily. Little did I know!
- A view of Coronet Peak, NZ
Coronet Peak – a 20 minute drive from Queenstown, was the mountain we were recommended to ski, which is devoid of trees (like most of NZ ski slopes) which, personally, I think makes the place very “unpretty” but from a beginner’s point of view, is excellent, as there’s nothing to run into.
So, the first day, Margaret and I, all bright eyed and bushy-tailed, went to rent our ski gear. When the rental guy asked me what sort of skis I wanted, I replied: “the best!”. Now, I’m kinda thinking that this guy thought: “I’ll show her!” Looking back at the harrowing experience that was yet to come, I think the smart ass (hang on, wasn’t that me?) gave me racing skis. And here’s why I think that.
Margaret and I headed up to the beginner’s slope, which had a very, very gradual decline and enrolled in our first ever ski lesson. I was successfully standing with my skis facing across the mountain (baby hill) but before I had even managed to gradually turn my skis to face down the hill, I took off with great speed (probably not at all, but it seemed that way) and absolutely no way of stopping (as I hadn’t learned that yet) and shock horror, found myself heading towards an entire ski school innocently traversing across the hill right in front of me! The rest was a bit of a blur, but somehow I eventually managed to stop, look behind me and see the carnage that I had left behind. I had skied through the skiers and over their skis and while they had fallen to the left and to the right, I remained upright! That must mean I’ve got good balance, right?
And what of my friend, Margaret? Well, here’s a lesson that anyone who hasn’t skied before and is thinking of skiing should heed.
Margaret and I had managed a couple of “runs” (I use this term generously as we are probably talking about 100 feet here), and on my third run, I stopped half way (50 feet) and looked behind me to see Margaret gently making her way down the slope. I then continued with the rest of my run, stopped, looked behind me again and…where was Margaret? She had simply disappeared! I then noticed a commotion on the other side of the baby pommer, where there was a drop of about 4 feet. I waddled my way over (as to say I skied over would be a great exaggeration) to see her in a pile of snow with skis and poles everywhere. So, it seems, this is what happened. She took off and was looking at the kids on the pommer instead of down the mountain. And the lesson? Wherever you are looking, you will go!
We survived Day 1, but both badly in need of a vino. Surely Day 2 was going to be better? Then again….
Introduction: Do I have to write a blog? Yes..you do!
“You have to write a blog!” Skboot’s web developer says. “Why?” I say. “Because it’s good for SEO” they say. Apparently, if you update your blog often enough and put it on your website, the Search Engines love it. So, while I actually enjoy writing, it is with some hesitation that I am commencing this blog. So, lots of encouragement pleeeeease!
So, the first dilemma I had was what to write about. Well, actually, it wasn’t. The first dilemma was: “do I write it from a company viewpoint, or a personal viewpoint?” It seems that the common consensus was that as the founder of Skboot and having invented this brilliant little wheeled boot bag, I should write the blog from a personal viewpoint.
Then came the second dilemma of what to write about. Now, everyone thinks that because I invented this great boot bag, I must be a great skier and an expert on all things skiey (is there such a word?). Well, let me get this straight right from the start – neither apply to me. I just happened to be someone who loved to travel and loved to ski and disliked immensely (I’ll try not to use the word “hate”) traveling while also carrying my ski boots and gear! I couldn’t believe that someone hadn’t invented such an animal – so taking into account the words of Edmund Burke “The only way for evil to triumph is for good men (or women) to do nothing” – I decided to do something and dispense with the evil that permeated the skiing industry, which ultimately believes that all skiers are young, strong, athletic men who can carry all their ski gear in one little bag over their shoulders!
But I digress…so I’ve decided to write a blog in the first person about something that relates to skiing. You know, I’ve always been someone who when they walk out the door, something crazy happens and I often fantasized about writing a book called the “Perils of Caroline” which was actually going to be about my love life, and while the content of these perils might be hilarious for most (women), it’s probably not that funny for skiers or people who travel to ski, and it would be totally irrelevant for the Skboot website.
So, as mentioned in my bio, I now live and work in Park City. During the ski season, I am lucky enough to have been chosen to volunteer one day a week at the Park City Mountain Resort as a Lift Line Coordinator (LLC), which I prefer to call – and what Seinfeld would probably call – a Lift Nazi. So, I’m responsible for getting groups of 4 or 6 onto a lift so the lifts are being utilized as much as they can be and while this might seem easy, to be honest, I’ve never had so much trouble counting to 4 and 6 in my life! This, to people who know me, would not find this surprising at all.
But, prior to landing this great job, and prior to moving to Park City, Utah, I lived in Australia where swimming is a national sport – not skiing. So, I thought I would entertain you with some of the funny (I hope) perils I have had on the ski slopes during the years and to share with you the goings on in Park City, Utah and in the lift lines of PCMR!
I would love for anyone reading my blogs to comment (no profanity please) and to share their stories also. Please feel free to share photos of your skiing memories. Let’s make this fun and interactive.
The chapters, I will call “Episodes” (and when you read them, you’ll know why), which I will intersperse with “Sidebars” of things that have nothing to do with me but events or tips or anything else that I think you may be interested in. Again, I’m open to suggestions.
But for now, let’s start with Episode 1 of the Perils of Caroline – Living and Working in the Snow…we’re off to New Zealand!