Shortest Ski Season Ever

The season started late because the snow was late this year. But better late than never. Usually, we ski beginning January, but this year we had to wait until then end of the month. And when there finally was snow, we got fog as well. And although I love skiing while the snowflakes are coming down, it was more of an exercise to find your way around.

But last Saturday, finally, it was a fantastic day for skiing. Clear and sunny skies, no traffic, well-groomed and quiet slopes, they’d even thrown in a new lift somewhere way up high, so no competition from the newbies, and crispy snow. Almost too good to be true.

Too good to be true, in fact.  

Because it looks like that was indeed the one and only ski day of the year 2018.  It’s been an average of 12 degrees and over on the slopes the entire week. I think I might as well pack up my gear again.

One good day. This must have been the shortest season ever. 

It was, in other aspects, also a memorable season, as it was my first time going solo after some 20 years. A rude awakening, I might add. For as long as I ski, I have skied with my kids. First I taught my son, and so we always skied together. My son actually enjoyed skiing. He eventually switched to snowboarding, and as his friends were all on the slopes of Feraya every weekend, in the end all I would see of him was during the car ride up and the ride down. By that time, I had taught my daughter, and I would ski with her. She hated skiing, but when she  switched to boarding, she became an avid fan, and so I always had a skiing buddy.

But this is of the past. She knows these slopes like I knew the back alleys in my neighborhood. She knows how to get from one end of the resort to the other, knows what lifts have lines and which have not, which slopes are good in the morning and which in the afternoon, and where they sell the best manakis zaatar.  The friends she grew up with all ski, and they’ve roamed the slopes with us, the parents for the past years..

But last Thursday,  as we were discussing the plans for the weekend, and I mentioned what time we would be going up to Feraya, she said: “Oh, but I am not going with you.” 

She had it all planned. She didn’t even need a ride. Her whole weekend was laid out. She’d be boarding with so and so, and this friends was joining, and that friend would come too, and they would meet X there, and Y and Z would catch up with them later.  

And here I was, all dressed up and nowhere to go.

For a fleeting moment, I thought about not going myself. But hey, it’s not like next weekend was going to be any different. And so I went.

And it was lovely.

But that was it. One good day.  This was definitely my shortest season ever. Time to get the picnic basket out of the closet, and get ready for spring.