Sunday, February 25, 2007

Marie, Marie, Hold On Tight

I just got back from an excellent vacation. I spent the last week in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, skiing, snowmobiling, and hanging out with about 60 of my relatives. My grandfather sold an old piece of family swamp land and, instead of willing the money to us after he and my grandmother die, decided to take us all on a vacation together now. I'm the youngest of 10 grandkids, the rest of them are all married and everyone (except one) has kids. Thus, I have like a million second cousins and huge family.
My grandmother was born in Jackson Hole, and her grandparents helped settle the place. My great-great-grandfather helped establish the national elk refuge there, and supposedly even helped decorate the famous Million Dollar Cowboy Bar. Now Jackson Hole is an expensive winter tourist town teeming with hot guys who never forget their gloves and can get your snowmobile out of a ditch with one hand. It's a good place for a girl with a broken heart.

I love the snow! As long as you're wearing long underwear and a million layers, you don't really get cold. If you fall down, it doesn't hurt and you can just roll around in it without getting dirty. It's like swimming. It's like being a toddler.
And skiing is the most fun thing in the world besides doin' it and looking at pictures of cats. I swear to God, if I have fucked up some part of my grad school apps and I don't get in anywhere, I'm moving somewhere where I can ski all the time. Unlike every other sport I've ever tried or played, I was actually good at skiing right away. Mama was right when she told me to be proud of my big ole' strong legs ("those legs are going to carry you through life, Susanna").

Here's a photo of me going down a pretty steep hill:

And then wiping out:

Whenever I fell, I would laugh. I felt like a baby falling down on the carpet. Plus, my cell phone was in my pocket and it'd get jammed and go "De-Dah" everytime. When I'd go back on the lift, the guy would go "Did you fall again?" because my jacket and my pants would be covered in snow. It didn't hurt, though, even when I fell with my face in the snow and my skis fanned out behind me. It reminded me of the first time my old boyfriend and I put on our scuba diving equipment in this pool in Mexico. Neither of us could move without tipping backwards or getting our heads underwater. We were like little fetuses. Both of us looked up
at our instructor and said "Mommy!"

Another amazing thing we did in Jackson was go snowmobiling to these natural hot springs:

We rode in about 10 miles, took off the 500 layers we were wearing and got in the hot water. It was snowing and there was about 5 feet of snow on the ground. While we were swimming, our guides cooked us each a steak.

I put my bathing suit out to dry on the snow.

Then I pushed my mom down.

Snow is quiet. It's soft under your feet. It's also very, very cold.

But I think it's good for you.

1 comment:

Paul Dunn said...

Funny how you and Mac have completely different views... oh, wait... no it's not. You guys are completely different people.

Regardless, I think I should have went in Mac's place... the ingrate.