Every day this week a different grade level had a break from school to go out into the wintry world and ski, snowboard, go snowshoeing, sledding, or hiking! The meeting place was always at the train station, so every morning I had the pleasure of arriving in Fribourg to see a different class decked out in their ski layers, having quite a merry time with all their gear as they tried to get on and off the trains, and waited for the buses. You don't know "challenging" until you carry your ski poles, ski boots, skis, lunch sack, and helmet seven minutes from your house down an icy hill, onto a crowded bus of people who are looking at you funny, and have to somehow have your bus pass in your hand to show the driver as you go by. My sympathies were not developed until Thursday. To add to the merriment, we often didn't have class because our teacher was accompanying a group of students for their field day. St-Michel is too cool for substitute teachers!
Once our grade was all together at the station in Fribourg, we took these fancy, Swiss, luxury buses to the resort above le lac noir. They had a holding zone for our skis, televisions, toilets, curtains, chair-back tables, reclining options, and heaven knows what else! Whats more, everyone else thought it was normal!
Happy birthday Evanmaël! I actually did not know it was his 16th birthday until we were on the bus and he mentioned how awesome it was to ski on his birthday. I compensated on Friday with a bag of M&M’S that he declared would make him fat, but took to enjoying anyway! He was actually born in America, making him my fellow American citizen in class!
I ended up skiing with two friends from school for the whole day. They were much better than me, but I managed to keep up with them even with my weird half-snowplow style! We flew down blues, reds, moguls, and even two blacks! (Well, they flew down the blacks...) Just for context, my first red was at the YFU ski camp, and I had only done two since.
Our first run they stopped abruptly and I was right behind them. I did not manage to stop and ran right into Emilie, then proceeded for several meters down the slope on my back. She thought it was hysterical! I think it was rather elegant.
Despite panicking in the beginning and clinging to my snowplow for dear life, I pretty much figured out how to get around moguls, and ended up letting myself speed up and descend normally on the steep black despite my high-pitched, verbal protests.
For contrast, I took to powder on a whim and figured out quickly how to lean back and keep my ski tips up. On the blues I could easily go just off the trail into the powder as long as it was not to steep.
Lesson learned: life's greatest joy is a thermos of hot tea!
On one slope, every time we came up the ski lift there was someone doing "parapont" or paragliding off the ski trail. It was awesome! Sometimes we would see them flying over the ski lift, and other times we stopped at the top of the hill to watch them take off!
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