We are going skiing in Italy this weekend. After our first time skiing here, it became clear that I could use a lot of practice and more than a few lessons. Last week, Hokie, Wildcat and I snuck out of Geneva on a weekday for a lesson. We wanted to take advantage of the quieter, less chaotic slopes to get some badly-needed practice.
Thanks to The Huges’ for documenting stupidity on the slopes. I suppose these folks from Mammoth Mountain were embarrassed by their attire too.
Although you see people walking around Geneva in ski attire, I didn’t put my ski pants on over my tights until we arrived. I was afraid of roasting and waited to don my ski pants until we arrived.
We rent our skis and keep our other gear in a giant bag filled with ski accoutrements like helmets, gloves, etc. To make it a bit smaller, I removed his things and left them in a pile on the hall floor. When we arrived at Les Contamines, I threw on my pants. At least I thought they were my pants. They weren’t they were his. There is more than a foot and at least 90 pounds between us. My children’s 12-14 ski pants are a much better size for me than his giant man pants.
At that point, there was nothing to do but make the best of it. I tightened the waist and rolled them up at both ends. Let’s just say that while it was a great day on the slopes, I looked like the biggest nincompoop out there. Oh, well. It wasn’t the first time and it probably won’t have been the last.
In fact, I didn’t have to wait long to embarrass myself. Check me out in the photo below.
P.S. It is a really good thing that I took the lesson because I clearly needed practice with the equipment. I fell off the tow rope. Cut me some slack, it was my first time. I also caused the chair lift to stop when I saw a giant precipice and alps 20 feet after decent from the chair lift and gawked instead of scooting my tuckus forward.