Shamed. With a Happy Ending

Thursday afternoon I was on a school bus with 15 high school kids riding up to Mt. Hood again. This time without Slade. I was the official chaperon while Slade stayed behind for required parent teacher conferences.

I was in search of a feeling. One only experienced for a brief hour last February. I wanted to have a sense of fun, not fear, while snowboarding. I felt a little like a junkie looking for the great high that he has been unable to duplicate.

One more attempt. Would the stars be aligned for me?

1. Temperature? It was very nice. Not frigid. Just crisp and clean. CHECK

2. Snow conditions? It was soft. It actually glistened. Like Walt Disney sent snow fairies to sprinkle glitter wherever I went. CHECK

3. Mental condition? I was calm and relaxed. CHECK

4. Physical condition? I was wearing different socks so my boots felt SO much better. And I wasn't worn out. CHECK

Things were looking very good at this point . . .

Then I saw a few bright yellow ski bibs on people emerging from the direction of ski school. Half of them said, "Instructor." "Hmmm. Maybe I need one of those bibbed people with me. They must be the really GOOD instructors." But then I noticed the other half, in smaller print. "BLIND SKIER."

Really?!

Now if that isn't the last star to be aligned for me, I don't know what is. Surely, if I, with my surgically corrected vision, can see, I should be able to make it down the same hills that a physically disabled person can.

And with a good attitude.

So, Thursday evening, January 29, 2009, Heidi Watts made it off the ski lift without falling (more than once), strapped herself in her boots without her husband's pampering, lifted herself off the ground without any thoughts of childhood baggage and snowboarded down Buttercup multiple times. I found my little high.

Amazing what perspective does!