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Pizza! French fries! How I learned to Ski Bradford.

Friday, December 31st, 2010 by

The other night I finally made good on a promise I’d made to myself nearly five years ago when I first moved within spitting distance of Haverhill’s very own ski slope. I, Cosmic Amanda, would Ski Bradford!

I figured I’m pretty coordinated, and pick up new skills quickly. How hard can this be, really? I pulled on my swishiest snow pants and we headed on down, meeting a couple of friends who were already a few runs deep.

I geared up, stepped into the bindings, and quickly got the mechanics of moving forward down. “This is so easy!” I thought. Then, despite my friends’ collective skepticism (and multiple warnings about my hubris), I headed straight for the ski lift to get this party started.

I'd soon learn the ski lift ride was where my doom was sealed.

I know you’re probably thinking “but Cosmic Amanda, if you’ve never before in your entire life set foot in a ski boot, let alone successfully gone down a bunny slope, why are you heading up a ski lift towards the very top of the steepest part of the hill?” And I suppose now is a good time for you all to know the truth: I am an idiot.

In fact, I didn’t quite step off the ski lift, I actually tumbled off it, which is when I realized how hard it is to get back up when you’re wearing two five foot planks clipped to your feet. Once I was upright and started moving towards the slope, as if by magic my skis became magnetically drawn to the trees that line the crest of the hill. Which would induce panic and I’d flail my poles around, causing me to fall down again.

So my first trip down Ski Bradford’s black diamond was on foot, while my friends glided down the slope carrying the rest of my gear for me. I met them part way down the hill on the intermediate slope where the next part of my skiing adventure involved inching down sideways and yet more toppling over.

My view for most of the evening

By now I resigned myself to starting over and taking a more logical approach to learning how to ski: the kiddie slope. That’s when my friend introduced me to the pizza/french fries method of teaching little kids to ski. Of course, my first attempt went a little something like this:

But, the more I kept at it, the more that pizza/french fries method really worked! In fact, in no time I moved on to hot dog! Check me out:

What? Photoshop? Whatever do you mean?

Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating my new found skills just a tiny bit, but once I finally got the hang of things I started having a blast…just in time for Ski Bradford to close up shop for the night. Bummer! I’ll be back, though…I fully intend to make it down the big hill this winter with my skis (and my dignity) intact.

Ski Bradford is located off South Cross Rd. and is open every day at 8:30am. On weekdays they’re open until 10:00pm, and on weekends they close at 4:30pm but reopen for night skiing Saturdays 6:00pm – 10:00pm. Their Web site is www.skibradford.com

3 Responses to “Pizza! French fries! How I learned to Ski Bradford.”

  1. The Carrot says:

    Man, I learned to ski at Bradford years ago under similar circumstances…only with what was undeniably a slightly elevated blood alcohol level (ahem).

    I managed to make it 3/4’s of the way down when I went down…hard.

    My skis made it to the bottom all on their own.

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