Xtreme Leslie

So, what do people here in Geneva do? They ski.

Well, I don't ski. But I figured I needed to give it a try. If I spent six months in Switzerland and never tried skiing, I would certainly regret it.

All seemed to be set for a great weekend...my friend, Seth, and a bunch of his friends rented a chalet in Verbier for the entire season where we could crash, plus we would be there for some of the Xtreme Verbier events on Saturday. So, head up on Thursday night, ski Friday and Saturday morning, and then watch some crazy amazing skiing Saturday afternoon.

It didn't quite go as well as I had anticipated. It all started when I couldn't get a lesson on Friday. Among four ski schools, there were no group lessons being offered, and no private lessons available. But my gracious friends, Tim and Ashley, offered to teach me how to ski in the afternoon. So, I met them for a late lunch at Attelas (at ~2700m up), about halfway to the highest peak, Mont Four. We finished around 3pm, and since (we thought) the lifts were going to stop running around 4pm, Tim and Ashley suggested we just ski down the entire way to teach me.

Maybe I should have listened to the little voice in my head that was saying, "Are you absolutely nuts?!" But I trusted them and thought...this is exactly what I need to fight. My FEAR. So, we headed out to start my first ski lesson. I get my skis on and they start trying to teach me how to stop and turn. For the most part, the beginning part is just a slight slope, so I start trying to do little runs, but then force myself to fall over in anticipation of falling off the slope into the black hole that I'm *certain* is just over the edge of the slope.

No less than 10 to 15 minutes, we come to a cross of several slopes, all of which is surrounded by this abyss that I'm certain I will fall into. Even with my knees shaking, my mind is saying, "Go, Leslie...go!!!" Well, one more run and a prompt falling over and sliding down the hill for way longer than I was comfortable with, I was done. I was terrified and quite literally, paralyzed with fear.

So, Tim and Ashley suggest we try a flatter slope lower down the mountain. I agree, although am really ready to go back to the safe, secure, flat chalet. So, I take off my skis and start walking down the slope (trying to dodge skiiers and boarders alike)...which is actually still a bit scary for me. About halfway down the hill, I find myself quickly surrounded by a Verbier ski patroller along with her class of five-year old ski prodigies. With a prompt, text-book ski stop, she takes off her sunglasses and scolds, "What are you doing?!" My feeble attempt to explain our grand plan was not very convincing. She demands that I walk back up the slope and take the gondola down. I tell her that's fine, but I point to my friends (who are now at the bottom of the hill) and let her know that they have my skis. She tells me to turn around and walk back up and she'll let them know that I am going back up to the cable car. All the while, all the kids are laughing at me. (Ok that's a lie...but in my moment of humiliation, that's how I imagine it in my head. =P) The ski patroller heads down and I can see her yelling at Tim and Ashley. So, I headed back up the mountain and then took the telecabine back down to a lower mountain, and sat in the sun the rest of the day.

We even managed to miss all the Xtreme Verbier events the next day, because we thought they were at the highest peak, Mont Four. So, we spent two hours getting to the top, and then found out that it was at a lower peak. So, another hour and half in transit, and then the competition was over. But I did check out the highlights online, which are amazing.

But all in all, I am really happy I went up to Verbier, and that I "tried" skiing. The views from Mont Four were absolutely breathtaking. But I think I'll try cross-country skiing next time ;P