I am not really skiing today. Or ripping. Or disorganizing anything referred to as ‘gnar.’ I am standing by while someone else puts on gloves, a helmet, a scarf, a jacket, so much stuff simply to walk out the door. This someone has Cerebral Palsy, or Multiple Sclerosis, or maybe three out of four limbs. I don’t see how it’s going to work, this skiing thing, but I say, “Welcome to Disabled Sports, Welcome to Alpine Meadows , Welcome to Tahoe.”
We get on the lift. This someone is breathing quickly, eyes wide to the ground below; something has already been triggered. The air is crisp and the mountain is glowing, and I am thankful not because I am untouched by CP or MS, not because I have four functional limbs, but because I live here, I breathe this air, I feel this sun on my face. And because we have plenty of these things to share. And because we have plenty of someones with whom to share them.
Today, Subway is our Summit. We begin apprehensively, not sure how it’s going to work, this skiing thing, but with tethers, outriggers, bamboo sticks, chairs, we start moving. This someone makes it happen. This someone is doing it. This someone leans one way, then the other. This someone’s head raises up to take in the rush of the wind. This someone’s lips curve into a smile, and with the snow racing underfoot, this someone shouts, “Wahoo, baby!”
I am not really skiing today. I am not ripping or shredding or hucking, but I am tasting the air and basking in the sunlight, and I am feeling this someone’s smile all over. Something is triggered and I am thinking, “Wahoo baby Wahoo.”
Submitted By: Ben