Saturday, February 5, 2011

Give Me Some Sugar

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When you think of snow skiing, North Carolina is not the state that usually comes to mind. For most it’s Colorado or Utah or some place really cold and mountainous with snow so deep one could easily get lost until a spring thaw.

Having grown up in North Carolina, my only memories of snow skiing in this state were with my church youth group. Usually it involved waking up at o-dark-thirty in the morning, going to the church in the freezing cold, cramming 20 people into a 15 passenger van and making the long trek up winding mountain roads to the ski slopes. Once there, you wait in line for what seems like forever-and-a-day to rent your skis, only to hit the slopes and find that they are frozen sheets of ice. Then you spend the entire day careening down the mountain like kamikaze on skis with your butt so close to the ground that it hits every bump or downed skier in your way. Or, if your like me, you look like Vinko Bogataj, the “Agony of Defeat” skier made famous by ABC’s Wide World of Sports for his epic cartwheeling crash coming off a jump at the Ski-Flying World Championships in 1970.

Fast forward twenty-plus-years and snow skiing in North Carolina is a whole new story.

A couple of weeks ago I got sent to Sugar Mountain in Banner Elk, NC, to shoot a little snow skiing stock photos.

Arriving there I realized this wasn’t like the ski slopes of my youth. There was actual snow on the mountain, not the man made stuff, but the stuff that falls naturally out of the sky.

The resort hooked me up with one of members of the ski patrol, Gene Self, a twenty-plus-year veteran member of the patrol that volunteers on the weekend. He was going to show me around the slopes.

More than 20 years after I last attempted to ski and not wanting to risk life, limb and camera (not necessarily in that order), it was quickly decided that I would not attempt to ski and take pictures.

Luckily, they had a solution. Gene would sled me down the slopes. Not what I had in mind but definitely better than sitting at the bottom of the slope and catching people as they came tumbling toward the lodge.

Being with the ski patrol has its benefits. With a long line for the ski lift, Gene and I casually walked up to the operator, Gene gave him a few instructions and we were in the next chairs up the mountain. Just like skipping that long line at Disney World for Space Mountain.

Membership has its privileges.

I shot a few pictures on the way up. And as my chair approached the getting off point that most people would ski down, the lift slowed and I was able to walk off without busting my butt. I probably did a lot better without skis than I would have done with.

At the top of the mountain is where we picked up my ride, an old ski patrol sled used to carry the injured down the slope. Call it the ride of shame.

As Gene gets me situated in the sled he points out a note written at the front, “It says trash sled but don’t take it personal. It’s just one we don’t use for transporting people anymore,” as he tightens a strap over my legs. “Use this for an ‘Oh Shit’ handle,” he says as he leaves me a little slack.

And we’re off.

It was like a sleigh ride over the river and through the woods but with a little more excitement. More like taking the sleigh down a black diamond with a sharp turn to the left, coming to a perfect stop at the base of one of the runs.

I’d snap a few pictures and then it was back into the sled, skipping along the slope to the next photo op.

I was great watching people as we made our way down the slope. Imagine the look you get from people as you pass them on the sled taking pictures. It’s like they were mesmerized by the sight of a train wreck and then they’d come close to having one.

Gene and I made a couple of runs down the mountain that day. It was a blast. I really couldn’t have gotten the pictures I did without his help.

Of course, that day has me wanting to make another trip to Sugar Mountain. This time to ski. I’ll just plan to leave the camera at home. And if I happen to pull an “Agony of Defeat,” at least I know the ride down the mountain in the ski patrol sled will be just as fun.


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