Saturday, February 15, 2014

The Most Awkward Descent Down A Snow Covered Hill. Ever.

Today we went snow tubing at Dry Hill Ski Area in Watertown, New York.  I've never been snow tubing in my life, even though I grew up with snow.  I've been sledding on an old-fashioned wood sleigh with rails.  I've gone down the hill on a plastic roll up sled.  I've even made the trip on a flying saucer.  But never, ever on a tube.

And Ed?  Well, he's never done anything in snow period.  He grew up in Texas, where they don't get snow like we do in New York.  So for $15 each, we got our tickets for our first snow sport adventure.

We started at the bottom of the hill, lining up with all the other tubers - mostly children, but several parents and other adults too.  I didn't really feel as out of place as I thought I would.  I imagined a Saturday morning with a million kids running around.  And although the kids outnumbered the adults, they were having such fun - in the non-maniacal-hyped-on-sugar-Chuck-e-Cheese way - that they were actually kinda enjoyable to be around.  Don't tell anyone I said that.  
Once you get to the front of the line, your tube is hooked to a pulley, like a snow tube ski-lift, that takes you to the top of the hill.  Here's Ed lounging on his tube as he's pulled up the hill.  
When you get to the top of the hill, you roll off your tube, stand up, and retrieve your tube from the attendant.  Rolling off the tube is where my first injury occurred.  I don't know how it happened, but I tweaked my right thumb.  Hard.   

Ed immediately made fun of me, "You have a snow tube injury??  Already?  You haven't even gone down the hill yet."

"I think it happened when I fell off the tube," I said.  "I pulled it back or something." 

"Fell off the tube??  You rolled off the tube.  A tube that's six inches off the snow."

Well, whatever.  Over the course of the day it got worse - I couldn't pull my gloves on (try that without a thumb) - and by the end of the day it was bruised and swollen.  I couldn't even text. Tragic. 

Anyway, once we got to the top we had a choice of five lanes to tube down.  We chose the middle lane.  Here's Ed waiting his turn.
We did this several times, down and then back up the hill, using the third lane each time.  Then they closed that lane to shovel some snow that had accumulated in the path.

For the next run, I wanted to use the lanes to the right because they looked smaller, like baby lanes.  Ed suggested to use one of the lanes to the left because he thought it'd make a better photo op.  So I chose the fourth lane, positioning my tube at the top of the hill and preparing for takeoff.  

Here I am starting my descent.  I quickly wound up in the backwards position, as it's apparently impossible to keep a circle from turning, and there's really no way to steer or direct yourself.  I was backwards on all the other runs down too.  I didn't like it but it was unavoidable.  
Halfway down is when my spectacular wipeout took place.  I don't know how it happened, but I do know I felt as if I were tumbling in the undertow of a giant wave.  My face was in the snow and I rolled several times before coming to a stop.  Notice you can see my tube here, but I'm obscured by the poof of snow.
I came to a stop right in the middle of lane four.  Like a harp seal.  Belly down, face in the snow, tube turned over, me taking a moment to quickly assess whether I broke anything before standing up.
After I righted myself - all the layers I was wearing made me feel not just like a regular seal but a pregnant one, making me way fluffier than usual - I got up, walked to the end of the lane, and waited for Ed.  

I lost my sunglasses, and when Ed gave me the once over, dusting the snow off my clothes, he noticed I also lost an earring.  I knew I should have taken them off, but since the first few runs went pretty well, I figured I was safe.  

Here's a close-up of my beached seal pose.  I laugh every time I look at it.  And if you look at the snowbank on the right, close to the bottom of the photo, you can see my sunglasses.  The guy shoveling found them.  
Standing there recovering from my tumble, taking a breath, my hair wet with snow and most definitely a wreck (I could hear it screaming for a comb), I saw Ed staring at me.

"What?" I said.

"Uh, nothing." he said.  

"No, what is it?"

"I've just never seen you look like this in public before," he said. "Actually, I've never seen you look like this anywhere.  Ever."

I forbid him to take a picture.  But I did get one of him, after he made a snow landing at the end of his next run.
To be honest, even with crooked glasses and one eye full of snow, he looks ten times better than I did.

Which is why you will never see that photo of me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
2013:  At The Top Of My Favorite Cities List
2012: Not Looking Anymore
2011: There Is Hope
2010: Where The Bunnies Of The Desert Hang Out
2009: The Marion County Shirt Factory Incident
2008: Eddie Roams The Mayan Ruins Friday
2007: Self Service Antiques
2006: Begin At Once
2005: Sorry, no post on this day. The blog didn’t start until May 2005!


Belledog said...

Oh, that looks like fun.

You two got to be grownup kids. Again.

Ed said...

All the little kids with goofy winter hats scooping up snow and eating it were hilarious. All you hear is kids screaming all the way down the mountain slope. That must be a fun childhood for them. I never had snow to play in like they do. Its practically free and its right in their back yard. Good stuff.