Had been looking forward to a brief winter getaway. I've never stayed at a ski resort, nor have I gone skiing or snowboarding. I have visited a ski resort one time, early season. For financial reasons, I stayed at a much less expensive place, paying a day fee for an afternoon's snow tubing and an afternoon in their indoor water park. Had a good time. This time I reserved a three night stay at a different resort. Arriving on Sunday afternoon, parking seemed at a premium, though without additional fee. Skiers everywhere, coming down the slopes, riding the lift chairs. None included with my daily resort fee, but for a nominal amount as a 70-something I qualified for a season pass. A similar season pass to the regional Level 1 Trauma Center far exceeds that. My wife and I opted for snow tubing, a Second Act for me, a premiere for my wife. Day fee of $45 each, paid in advance and signed waiver of liability.
The resort allots these sessions to two hours three times daily. Since we arrived 90 minutes before our assigned time, we started our vacation at a winery ten minutes away, then returned to check into our room. I brought the suitcases to the sixth floor. Next, I retrieved my wife from the car, settled in a valuable space to be relinquished only for a very good reason.
Snow tubing next. The main desk directed the two of us to their registration station, a fairly significant hike across the breadth of the facility, past the main dining area, down a flight of stairs, and into a dedicated ski services desk. Once payment confirmed, we received admission passes with instruction to go outside, turn left an follow the path across the breadth of the hotel again, this time outdoors. And also mostly uphill. Despite my faithfulness with a home treadmill schedule, I found the upgrade physically taxing. Then walking on some snow, figuring out with assistance from an attendant the method for crossing the turnstile, and securing a tube. Its navy neoprene surface and other safety features made it heavier than anticipated. Eventually, past a few steps and upslope, a conveyor belt appeared. I placed this torus to rest on the conveyor in front of me, round side up while I balanced myself and the tube together. Another attendant got me off the conveyor in the right place. I picked a lane, while waiting for my wife. She seemed even more frazzled than me. I thought we had the same start position in different lanes, but her tube abutted the one in front of her. To avoid the two of them going together, a big safety hazard. I moved my wife and the tube she occupied back a little. The kid behind me moved into my place. When the attendant gave the go, I nudged my wife who seemed to make it all the way to the rubber braking mats without injury.
My turn came. I pushed off the starting ridge. It went slowly, then accelerated to the thrill part. Unfortunately, the seat of the tube offered little cushion from the surface. I could feel jolts of ice pellets or maybe stones displacing my sacrum. With my hands in the stirrups on the tube's upper surface, I elevated my buttocks for the rest of the ride. It detracted from the thrill. We understood after one downhill excursion why all other ticket holders appeared at least fifty years our junior. No grandparents on that slope with their grandchildren. The last time, I returned to the course two more times. This time no more for me, no more for my wife.
Returning to the hotel went a lot better sloping downward.
No comments:
Post a Comment