Gooseberry on Scout Ski Day

Today I got up early, filled the car with gas, and drove five young men to Copper Mountain to enjoy a freakingly cold day skiing. It will be my only day of skiing this year.

So how did everything go? Much better than this year's Turkey Bowl. While I am still in pain, I can function.

The painful part has nothing to do with being old, and out of shape, and overweight ... well maybe the overweight part is a contributing factor.

None of my sons had ever skied before last year. Last year I took them out on the slopes and showed them how to walk up the hill, do the snowplow and fall down then stand up again without dieing. We were able to go on several runs before time ran out and we all went to the lodge to eat chili out of very small bowls.

This year we started with many great prospects. My number two son had two friends along and they were going to spend the day together. I was going to spend my time with my number three son (an 11-year-old), and my number one son was going to do his own thing.

On our first run down the bunny slopes we learned that number one son's ski boots were causing a "stress fracture" on his foot. (His foot only hurt, however, when he was skiing. Not when he had the boots on and was walking, but only when he skied.) He went to the lodge to wait for the rest of us.

Number three son did one more run then decided the sub zero weather was too much for him. He went to the lodge to hang out with son number one.

Number two son was having fun, but one of his friends "got hypothermia and passed out from the cold." (He actually had none of the symptoms of hypothermia, but hypothermia is much more dramatic than saying, "I got cold and whimped out.") I met them in the lodge as well, but not before my feet slipped out from under me on the resort bus and I landed square on my not so square keister. I now have a bum rear. It only hurts when I stand, sit or lie down, however. I think I will live.

I don't know if I bruised it, and no one has accepted my request to check it out for me.

Finally, after another round of small chili bowls at the lodge, I took number two son and his friends back to the slopes for a couple more runs. I ended up hanging back watching my boy ski carefully down the hill. I think he is finally getting the hang of it.

That made the sore bottom worth the whole trip.