We woke up just after six to prepare for our last ski of the season. I’d laid everything out the day before so it didn’t take us long to shower, get dressed, shovel down some food and head down to Julian’s. He was waiting for us outside his apartment.
It rained on the drive up to York Mills subway station, and while Blue Mountain is a couple of hours drive north, I worried it was going to be not so pleasant on the hill. Considering how warm it had been in the city for the past week, I wondered if there’d be any snow on the hills at all.
There was only one bus going to the slopes today (normally there’s at least one). Even with only one bus, it wasn’t full. We slept for part of the way up and woke up to see green grass and slush on the ground. Would we find the hills similarly denuded?
We arrived at 9:30, got our lift tickets, hired our skis and went off for our first run before lessons started. The snow was slushy but at least there was still some snow to ski on. We were in a class with Julian and Umberto and had Paul as our instructor.
Because of the condition of the snow we were focusing on ‘carving’ and skiing on our edges. I think I got it. It took a while but I think I was starting to look the way I’m supposed to. Paul said I was on my edges plenty, just needed to slow down my turns. It was a pretty good lesson. We got rained and hailed on at the end so zoomed down the hill and into the lodge for lunch.
We’d brought tortellini in broth and various other bits and pieces to eat. Still, nothing really looks quite as good as the chips or chicken fingers other people buy from the cafe there. We abstained (but stole one of Julian’s chicken fingers).
At 2 the four of us went out for more skiing. We went to the other side of the mountain to try out the blacks. Most of us had never been to this part of the resort, probably because, apart from one blue, all the hills are black and double black. We manned up and went for it.
It turned out to be not as terrifying as we expected. The resort wasn’t that busy and these hills were practically empty. Yes, they were steeper than we’re used to but they weren’t unconquerable, and they didn’t last long. We did a couple of blacks and a couple of double blacks. There were a few falls (though I’m happy one of them wasn’t mine) but we all got down the hills in our own particular way and were keen to go again.
While Glen is cautious and prefers to traverse across the hills to keep himself slow and secure, I prefer to just point my skis down the hill and swish left and right in an attempt to look like a good skier. Good or not, I love going fast and maintaining a reasonably good stance makes me feel even better.
After our adventures on the hard hills, our legs were starting to get tired so we navigated our way back to the other side of the mountain, taking lifts up and hills down like some giant game of snakes and ladders. Finally we reached the lodge, returned our skis, put our normal shoes back on, decompressed for a bit then got on the bus.
So that’s our last ski for the season. The next two weekends are taken up and unless there’s a sudden polar vortex coming for us (knock on wood) the snow is likely to be all gone soon and the ski club stop doing trips.
The next time we ski will probably be in Japan next year, unless by some miracle we manage to fit it in sooner. Walking back to the bus, I was a little saddened to think that it’s unlikely, though not impossible, that we’ll ski in Ontario again. Not that the skiing is fantastic but it’s where we learned and holds happy memories. There are going to be a lot more of those ‘last time’ moments over the next few months. How lucky we are to have done so much.
Once back in Toronto, Glen, Julian and I went for noodles in Markham. It was busier than the last time we were there. It took a while to get food. I didn’t like it as much this time around but left feeling full. Now for a night on the couch.
Travels with Dan 
What do you say, eh?