Single Ski Season

Looking back, it seems like I was in a different world for twelve months.  In March I completed my mission in Argentina North, where I served 24 months for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  (“The best two years” could be a topic for another post someday … or a whole series – so sweet!)  But this is a quick account of my life as a single adult who focused on three endeavors for a year after the mission: four quarters of classes at the University of Utah (including LDS Institute of Religion,) skiing, and dating.

Now at the peak of ski season in Northern Utah, I feel the urge to go skiing. ("Dream on, old man!")  Recalling that April, I was immediately thrown into spring quarter at the U – a real shock to my system.  I took school seriously, but soon as classes were over for the day, I often turned my attention to water skiing during summer quarter and snow skiing during winter quarter.  I took skiing seriously as well.  Suffice it to say that most summer water was smooth as glass, and I thrived on it.  Loved Lake Powell, though I almost lost it in one fierce storm.  Between ski trips, studying by the community pool with my solar-powered transistor radio helped me keep up with the demands of school.

That fall I found the deal: a $70 ski package at Wolf's Sporting Goods, State Street, Salt Lake City.  Extra-long wooden skis with bindings, boots, and poles!  My compact car served well without a ski rack, as the skis extended out the passenger window.  A season pass at Park City West (aka Park West, later renamed The Canyons) was a wonderful gift from my father, who took it in trade for a debt they owed.  I made sure we got the value out of it by going up three times per week that winter.

I was attracted to the most difficult runs, challenging myself to learn quickly and negotiate huge moguls (mounds formed by deep troughs) on scary, steep slopes where gravity really worked.  College skiing class at Alta Ski Resort was heaven to me – a lot more satisfying than calculus and chemistry.  It was a subject I could really put my heart into and enjoy learning.  The experience was enhanced by combining skiing with dating when I took Kay, my Music Appreciation study partner, to the Alta “bunny hill,” where beginners used a rope tow to ascend the gentle slope.  Before long, her feet got so cold that we had to retreat to the lodge, where we sat by the fire.  I keenly felt responsibility for helping her warm up, and I was happy to do so.  Sweet and slow was the drive back down Little Cottonwood Canyon with a darling young woman cuddled close by my side (before seat belt law,) and a favorite song by Anne Murray on the radio.  More heaven for me!

Getting back to earth and skiing, I didn't know my days were numbered (for fun on the water and slopes, that is.)  At the end of those twelve months, my good friend Gordon in the Institute choir got engaged to be married, and encouraged me to boldly follow his example. I didn't know it, but I was about to get engaged to another close friend, Kay.

Married life was (and is) wonderful and different; I necessarily cut way back on skiing.  The first and final time I took Kay water skiing was in the middle of our first summer, and it hailed at Rockport reservoir just as she was getting up on the water; I failed to sell her on skiing after that.  Can't blame her.