Finding ski-legs

I was born with a set of long legs. OK, that's probably an overstatement -- I was born as a normal, tiny, crying bundle, but soon my lower limbs showed inclination towards unusual lengths. It would be every girl's dream, but, alas, I was born a boy! Luckily, Mother Nature solved this by covering my legs with hair -- not too much, just enough so they wouldn't be mistaken for girl's legs.

For Family Day weekend, the first ever in Ontario, I ended up with a couple of pieces of lumber attached to those legs of mine and was trying to remember the long-forgotten art of skiing I used to know in my early twenties. To my delight, the balance, the turns, the rush of wind on my face and of joy in my veins came back to me at once. After 18 years, I still know how to ski! Not bad for a Canadian-wannabe. If I could only get rid of the accent, I could easily be mistaken for the Canadian-born, Slavic features and Greek profile notwithstanding.

My exploration of the Canadian snow slopes was limited, for now, to Moonstone, a ski resort on Mt. St. Louis just north of Barrie, ON. Neat place to grow back your snow legs, after such a long pause. Although, if possible, try to stay away from it during the holidays! Family Day packed over 3500 skiers on around 10 running lifts and skiing was a perfect resemblance of a video game in which objects on skis and snowboards could materialize in front of you at any turn, or can run you over from behind. But, unlike the video games, you get unlimited number of lives to get up, dust the snow off and continue. I must say I was lucky not to ride the collision course, but my partner for life had a few close calls and didn't like it. I myself prefer skiing with space for turns, rather than doing it in a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd. It reminded me of trying to ski through a TTC bus during the rush-hour. Watch for your poles, don't hit the fellow would-be-skier behind. And watch for those damn snowboarders, they'll take you down, cut you right under the knees where you stand no chance of staying afoot!

That is exactly why we came back a day later - a workday Tuesday! Oh, what a pleasure, what an unbound skiing experience, a freedom and width of slopes for us to enjoy fully. Sure, they were a few overconfident teenagers on slopes with the school, mostly testing how close they can get to us on their snowboards, checking if they can make us fall without touching us. Of course, "sorry" is not in the vocabulary of the new generation of ski-bandits. Fortunately, along with the long legs, Mom Nature gifted me with bushy eyebrows and a fierce glare which kept the snow-thugs at a distance.

I am writing these lines with sore arms and legs, and a couple of naughty bruises on my shins, curtesy of rented ski-boots, but happy that I found my snowy self again. I can't wait to hit the slopes again.