Every year, during the New Year holiday, my family goes on a ski vacation. The location varies, but this year we decided to travel to Vail, Colorado. There we met up with some friends of my parents. I have skied since I was very young. Every since I was little, my parents put my sister and me into ski school. I hated ski school. I didn’t like to follow the ski instructor in a single file line with all the kids who were ‘locals’ and were able to ski all of the time. They were so good; it was hard to keep up. And I was stubborn and just wanted to do my own thing. They would tell us to make nice wide turns. I didn’t want to listen. Instead, I went straight down. This didn’t cause any problems, as we did all the bunny slopes. After some years, my parents finally allowed my sister and me to stop participating in ski school. We could finally ski with them!
At first, I hated to ski. My mom was an avid skier. I, …show more content…
I would even try to make nice turns and to keep my skis parallel. At Vail, my parents were friends with some experienced skiers.
“KC,” they would joke, “Do you want to ski some double-black diamonds with us?”
I knew they were only joking, but I couldn’t help feeling like I wanted to impress them somehow. After we had lunch, my mom asked me if I wanted to go on some harder runs with her. I was uncertain, but I agreed anyway. Sure, I thought, It can’t be that bad, and I’ve been trying to improve my skiing technique. I’ll be fine. I thought wrong.
My mom and I headed over to the run. On the chairlift up, we observed the trail. I noticed icy patches on the steeper parts of the slope.
“That looks pretty icey,” my mom commented. “Are you sure you still want to do it?”
“If we stick together, it will be fine. We can go very slowly,” I reassured myself.
At the top of the lift, we pushed ourselves to the top of the run.
“How do you feel?” my mom asked.
“Good, I think I’m