Recap of Smuggler's Notch, VT

I wrote at the beginning of our 5-day trip to Smuggler's Notch; now for posterity’s sake, a recap. Day 3, we tried one long green run as a family. I finally sent them ahead. It’s too daunting to watch their little statures flying down the mountain. That anxiety nearly knocks me over. Put me on my own little green run and meet me at the end of the day. That’s the ski equivalent of fingers in the ears singing “la-la-la” when you don’t want to hear what’s going on around you. Worried about me, Bill called to see if I was OK. “Going at my own pace.” I like to ski alone. If for some reason I can’t make it down a slope, I have confidence that all those instructors of 4-year-olds on my green run will get the ski patrol involved.

We will probably need to hire someone to ski with Will on those double- and triple-blacks he wants to ski in the future. Bill skied hard on blues and blacks with Will. Bill concedes that Will can pretty much out-ski him. The kid thrives on challenge and calculated (hopefully) risk-taking.

Liam exhibited control over apparent chaos. The last day of class was a Saturday. Parents collected at the bottom of the hill waiting for their kids to return from lessons. While waiting, I noticed that too many Saturday parents were waiting 10-deep directly in front of the lesson starting points which were also the finishing points. Thinking that was a little dangerous for the kids, I shrugged that thought off and tried to remember what the goggled skier I was waiting for looked like.

Ah, yes. There he was in a blue and green coat and a dark blue helmet – with bright orange goggles that confirmed he was mine. Cranky, he was going fast. And he didn’t slow on approach. And… he’s heading right toward all those parents! I waited for the crash. Instead, Liam disappeared into the crowd, and I watched as parents’ heads jerked upward like bunny heads popping out of holes. Liam zig-zagged through the crowd, full throttle. “Hi, Mom,” he said casually, innocently as he stopped 18 inches away from me. Liam had seen my purple and pink plaid coat and skied to it. With absolutely no idea of the chaos he had created in the crowd. Liam will always ski from Point A to Point B, no matter how many classes he takes. Making only as many turns as necessary.

Did Instructor Snow teach Liam everything he needed to know?  I see a kinship in those smiles.

Have you seen my "shredder" look?