Snowy Adventure

We finally took Teia to the snow. Poor kid has been hopefully looking up at the sky all winter. Living in Victoria is a bit tricky that way. It isn't a sure thing that it won't snow, but no guarantee that it will either. With all this ambiguity, our little optimist has been regularly letting us know when she thinks it will snow. But she's been wrong every time. No snow in Vic this year.

We were a bit hopeful over the Christmas holidays when it was really chilly. But it seems that temperature and precipitation have an inverse relationship here, at least during this El Nino influenced winter. So the colder it got, the more the sun shone. The warmer it got, the more it rained.

So we planned a last minute weekend away to Mt. Washington. The kids were excited, their traveling itch about to be scratched by an adventure somewhere new (and snowy). We arrived in the dark on Friday night and had to hike/tow our supplies into the little townhouse we rented. The original Alpine village at Mt. W is a no car zone in the winter. This is actually really great except when you are schlepping stuff in and out.

The kids could not, no actually, would not, wait to play in the snow. Now the temps had been hovering around zero or a little above and the precip had been mixed all week so you can imagine this wasn't the light fluffy stuff of their daydreams. And it was nearing (or past) their bedtime. But there was no telling them and they just had to get out there and play. All was well until Teia lost a boot. The snow was deep and we were thankful it was just her boot and not her whole self. This snowbank could have easily consumed a 6 year old child. This boot was being held under by the cement-like stuff and I had to dig and dig...while Greg held our wailing child up so her foot would stay relatively dry. This gave me renewed respect for the power of an avalanche, particularly in spring skiing conditions. Yikes.

Her enthusiasm for snow returned in the morning. She got up early, threw open the curtains and launched into verse "its snowed, it snowed, it snowed last night...." even though it clearly hadn't. Forever our little optimist.

Saturday morning arrived as a "bluebird day" (in the words of our favorite Kiwi), which was perfect for the littles' first ever ski lesson. We actually laid down the money for a stranger to attempt to teach our kids to ski for two hours so we could ski ourselves. Risky. We weren't sure how this would go; they were excited and maybe a little nervous so we dropped them off and hopped on the chairlift and away we went for 2 hours of ski hill freedom.

I think the excitement of skiing with Greg sans kids in the sunshine with spectacular views went to my head b/c I did, like, the stupidest thing ever. Greg explains it with some kind of physics equation about mass =ing speed and weight ya da, ya da. Whatever, it was stupid. You see Greg snowboards and snowboards ain't so easy to get up hills. We were trying to get from one run to another via some kind of alley run. Greg figured he'd spotted it and scooted in, only to find himself going up hill and then....stopping....b/c that is what snowboards do. I was skiing behind him and thought that I'd help him out with a little push, after all, its easier to ski/skate/pole up a hill than crawl up pathetically and slowly as snowboarders do, or even worse, have to clip out completely and then walk. And we were pressed for time. That kids' ski lesson clock was ticking.

So I smacked right into the back of him. It didn't go as a I envisioned. He didn't proceed to smoothly coast up the hill while I stopped and then gracefully pole/skated up behind him (as skiers can do). Nope. I smacked into the back of him. And he didn't move. Except maybe to lose his balance with surprise at being hit from behind and sorta fall on me. So now we're both sliding back down the hill except that my legs are bent at angles that legs aren't supposed to bend at, straddled on either side of him. So I start screaming and he somehow gets up and I keep sliding for a bit, fetal-position now, hoping that that parts of my knees are still attached. I didn't feel any ripping, just a lot of stretching in parts that probably weren't supposed to stretch that way or that far. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. It could have been bad.

Oh, and my bindings didn't release. Maybe that is what I get for skiing on gear that is 17 years old. My poles, however, those babies are pushing 30 years old and they worked just fine. My boots were dropping bits of black plastic everywhere I went. Nasty.

(One of my fav things about Mt. W is that you can look down on the ocean and green valley while up on a snow covered mountain top).

I managed to ski the rest of the time that we had. A little cautiously and gingerly maybe, but I skied. This kid-free ski time was too precious to give up just b/c I nearly tore both of my MCLs, right? This was the 3rd half day of skiing since 2008, we just had to do it.

So then it was pick up the kids time. They were laid out on the snow like little wet socks. Thank goodness it was warm. They claimed that they had fun and the instructor said they reached level "bear." Apparently this equates to - got down the bunny hill and used crashing as their preferred method of stopping. We were really proud of them :-) Teia decided that it was really fun to be a penguin and slide down all the hills in the busy lodge area on her belly. She seemed to have more enthusiasm for this than for skiing itself. We ate some sticky beavertails and packed it in. I limped home to ibuprofen and ice packs.

The kids spent the afternoon playing "snowy foxes" in the ice/snow/slush/cement around our townhouse. Greg headed back to the slopes for an evening of night snowboarding. Leaving his wife who makes bad decisions, home to take care of kids and nurse knees.

Sunday we decided the safest activity for my knees would be snowshoeing. The kids weren't impressed, wanting nothing more than to play "snowy foxes" outside the townhouse again. We convinced them that snowshoes would make them even more snowy fox-like. Once we forked out the 70$ or whatever it was to rent snowshoes and get trail passes, T stood with a less than impressed look on her face. "Mom, these do NOT look like snowy fox feet." Clearly, she felt betrayed. But once she was traipsing through the forest on her foxy snow feet she was all smiles. Until she wasn't, about 15 minutes later, tired and whining to go back. Kai was keen to keep on truckin' but little sis's complaints were loud so we abandoned our 2.5K ambitions and headed back to the lodge for hot chocolate. Then back to the townhouse where the kids could play snowy fox and eat snow (b/c apparently this is highly enjoyable), to their hearts' content until it was time to go. And they added a character named "stone grinder" to their snowy games who sounded rather scary. Kai drew it for me later and it looked strangely like a wood stove, while Teia's version looked like something from Where the Wild Things Are, going poop.

To top off a really fabulous weekend (despite the elements of misadventure) was a real snowfall for the last hour or so while they played and tobogganed outside. Huge smiles, rosy cheeks, wet hair. Sheer happiness. So worth it.