Maybe I was pushing my luck by trying to squeeze in one last day of skiing, but yesterday at the Dartmouth Skiway, I slipped on some ice and could have sworn I cracked my skull. I had to go into work in the AM and my wife had an appointment at 10:00, so that meant that I would have to go in around 6:00 and work until she showed up to pass off the baton, i.e., the kids. That left us the remainder of the day to either go home, or hang out in Hanover, or go skiing. I checked the report and they said all lifts and trails were open. The day before it was 40 degrees, so I had Spring skiing in mind, and we got a late snowstorm, so things were looking up, and it was pretty much a no-brainer. We were going skiing, perhaps for the last time this season.
Well, a massive cold front rolled in, with strong winds, and by the time we'd arrived at the ski hill, it was not only cold and windy, but icy. I may have mentioned this before, but what's nice about the Skiway is the lift is about fifty feet from the parking lot, so you can literally ski right to your car. Yesterday, however, after warm temps followed by freezing, the parking lot was icy, and the small hill that you have to climb to get to the snow was impossible to walk on with boots. The kids were having trouble so I went over to help, and as I lifted one of them up, my feet literally slipped out from under me and my head went straight down onto the ground.
Fortunately, N was fine, he landed on his feet, but my head smacked the ground so hard, I could hear the cracking sound on impact. I rolled over and figured I'd cracked my skull, and waited for either the blood to start flowing or passing out. But neither came, and as I lay there, it dawned on me that it didn't hurt that bad. Sure, it was a nasty spill, and it did hurt, but considering how hard I came down, there should have been at least some blood.
And that sound. It turns out that the sound might actually have been what saved me. I think the crushing of the ice with my head must have absorbed the force of the blow, and though it sounded terrible, it saved me. I got up, we got on the lift, and skied for the day. The whole time, however, I couldn't help but be grateful that it was me, and not the kids, that fell.
And, of course, that it wasn't as serious as it could have been. We're thinking it might be a good time to hang up the skis. Then again, Quechee is supposed to be open until April, so you never know...
Personally, I'm kind of over the snow. I'm ready for some warm weather and all the projects we have lined up, so bring it on.
Today we are just hanging out, cooking and doing some homeschooling stuff, which actually went well. One day soon I'll get to the state requirement stuff, but for now, I'll just relax and enjoy the time with the kids, inside by the warm fire, with my head still intact.
Until the next time, thanks for reading.