For those of you who live in balmy, palm-treed lands, XC does not stand for cross-stitching ... although I've been known to do that too. XC is the abbreviation for Cross-Country Skiing - a winter sport during which you strap a long skinny thing to each foot and attempt to move across the countryside. In my case, without slipping/sliding/or other scary sensations (see previous post!).
We decided to begin our ski careers at the Cascade XC Ski Center. Located only 20 minutes from our home, Cascade offers everything a novice skiier needs. Like skis, boots, poles, groomed trails ...
... and nice people who don't laugh at you. (This one is more important than you may think!)
No trails for me yet. I have signed up for a lesson - which means that I must spend a humiliating hour shuffling back and forth in some of those lovely grooves. Right outside the ski shop where all of the obviously professional skiiers can see me! (I know they were all professionals because their ski suits matched and their noses weren't running.)
You will notice that I do not have any ski poles in my hands. This is because my very kind and patient teacher, Terry, took them away from me. He figured out that I was leaning on them (uh ... yeah ... with all my might!) and that if he didn't intervene, he'd be stuck instructing me for years to come. According to him, I wasn't actually skiing ... I was "snow walking."
I was just happy to be upright!
Terry finally gave up on me and left to take another student out on the "real" trails. I saw the opportunity for escape. While he was gone, I hit the "real" trails too! (After reclaiming my leaning ... err ... I mean ... ski poles.
But enough about me ... I know that you're wondering about the rest of the family!!