By Robert Streeter, Class of '64 Editor
PSIA Certified Level II
Bromley Mountain VT
At about the time I stopped being a child and
dove into adulthood (at the age of 24, married and . . . . the father of a 5 month old), I found out I could be
an adult and still act like a kid. All I needed was grown up toys.
My new brother-in-Law, Dick, challenged me one Thanksgiving Day to try skiing. I said, “I would love to try.” I thought to myself, with all the stupid things I did as a kid like ice-skating on two inches of ice on Wolfs Pond Park, skiing would be a walk in the park. At least you couldn’t fall through and get wet, or so I thought.
The long awaited day arrived; the only problem was that day was actually night. I packed up my car with my sister-in-laws boots and skis (you old time skiers know Cubco bindings were the state of the art). And we headed for the hills of Sussex County NJ, to a somewhat new resort called Great Gorge.
Of course, being a guy and not wanting to let
anyone know I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing, I asked Dick to
show me the ropes.
Literally he did just that.
He brought me to the rope tow and said, do this, do that and then
make a snowplow. Then left me to go to the top of the hill. It turned out DICK
was a perfect name for him.
Well, I didn’t need him anyway.
I looked like I was a beginner all my life. It wasn’t long before
I got up the courage to tackle the top of the hill.
In retrospect I could have used a few more years of practice. But I gave it a go anyway. Nobody told me I shouldn’t wear jeans. I fell, and then I fell again, then again. By now I picked up enough snow to look like the Michelin Man.
So
much for not falling though and getting wet.
But you know what? I had a blast. Never had I had so much fun
packed into so few hours.
Today I spend two days a week teaching skiing to kids and adults who would like to stay kids. They remember as I do the thrill of sledding down Dead Mans Hill off Hyland Blvd. Or just making snow angles. Cold? What was that? You never noticed, at least until you had to be carried home because your feet were to numb to walk. I love skiing. I love to share what I’ve learned about it and see new comers gain skill and confidence, especially those who think they can’t, or think they are too old to try. So get off your duff. Come on up to Bromley Mountain this winter, or any resort for that matter, and be a kid again.
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