Double Black

Even though I'm not back at work, for Coops' sake, short working weeks are great. Three days of work (for Coops, he hee) and we were back on the slopes at Mont Ste-Marie, just over an hour north of Ottawa. We had skied here early in the season, while I was still renting crappy skis with no edges, so I was keen to get back and measure my progress.

It was a little overcast, but a nice day for skiing - a little warmer than it had been despite Ottawa temperatures getting down to -32degC on Wednesday and Thursday. The forecast suggested that temperatures would soar to 10degC Monday and Tuesday with rain to melt the snow, so the slopes were packed with people making the most of the good snow and their last weekend before they were to once again to endure the routine of everyday.

We were 2nd in line when the lifts opened late at 8.45am, but first down the run that I refused to ski last time when the day's skiers had exposed huge sheets of ice which my rental skis just could not handle. This time - no problem at all. It was kind of exciting. I was gearing myself up for a perfect day where I would not fall over once. On about my 4th run I came to a quick halt and ended up on my elbow. I was prepared to discount this small incident, as it wasn't technically a ski-related fall, just me being inept at moving at such a reduced speed, something close to walking. However my spirits were buoyed later when my ski-guru boyfriend did exactly the same thing, although being much taller, he looked even more amusing.

After an early lunch Coops and I decided to head over to the other side of the mountains where we'd not yet skied. There were a few blue runs (intermediate), a green (easy) run to get back to the other side of the mountain (which was actually quite hard cause some of it went up hill) and several black runs for the crazy unbreakable people. In terms of signage for runs, I think Mont Ste Marie is quite bad. Some of the runs merge, but change difficulty level, but these are not indicated at the merge point. You need to have memorised the trail map, and then still interpret the arrows correctly at the top of the runs. Subsequently Coops led me down to a black cluster of runs, and then selected a double black as the easiest route off the hill to which I responded with a stare implying something like "have you taken leave of all faculties" to which he inevitably responded "Trust me".

With a terrible thought of having to walking off this hill - if it was to still be possible - in the back of my mind, we set off slowly. Coops still looking like an annoying little floating leaf on snow, and me looking like a sprinkler alarm had gone off in the top of my hood. "OK, this is OK" I'm thinking, not looking too far ahead, knowing that I think I can see the bottom of the run. About half way down, and still standing, I realise there seems to be a gap between the run at my feet, and the bottom of the run - there was no consistent continuance of solid snow that I could see. The run has just gone from steep to 'does this dip directly into Hell?!?'. Not only that, the angle of the slope meant that large patches of ice were being cleared by the skiers who actually had a right to be on that run, and I was to depend completely on the 2-3mm edges of metal on my skis to get my unskilled feet to safety.

Coops managed to lead me through a trail of slightly snow covered ice, but I was beginning to get shaky. When I was close enough to the bottom to just face down hill and slide like a bullet I tried to turn with gravity and lost in completely. I ended up sliding to the bottom on my belly like a home made sled, unable to stop on that gradient even if I wanted to. I was torn as to what to do with my emotions; I initially wanted to accuse Coops of trying to kill me and devise an appropriate and proportionate punishment, but it had just been so much damn fun sliding down that double black. Eventually I decided that my revenge would best be served cold... Sleep tight Coops, sleep tight.