| Subject: Bolton Valley memories |
Author: Brina
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Date Posted: 04:05:10 12/03/02 Tue
Maureen's mention of Bolton Valley ski trips in the thread below really takes me back there! Wasn't that cool how we could go there from school, in jr. high, on the bus? Was it just on Fridays? Now that I have a son that age, I can see why we loved those days so much!
I do have a Bolton memory that will make those of you who know the ski area laugh at me. It's February 1971 (that's 8th grade, for me) and a friend, Robin Galbraith, and I have decided to paint our skis. We get this sort of spray paint stuff and also some stencil things in the shape of footprints--I think the motif was called Hang Ten, like in surfing?--as well as peace signs. First we have to remove the bindings; we've never done that before, so we get her college-age brother Duncan to do it for us. Then we do our little artistic project on the skis. My skis are painted black, with these neon day-glo peace signs and footprints all over the black background.
We let our skis dry overnight. The next day, I ask her brother to put the bindings back on, 'cause I am supposed to go skiing later that day with another friend (Nanci Wickersham) at Bolton.
Fast-forward to that afternoon. Nanci and I go up to Bolton Valley with her father, who is a really good skiier. Nanci is good too, but I'm just a glorified beginner, all I know I learned on those Friday beginner lessons from jr. high and what little skiing I could get in on those days! So I usually stay to the easy trails. That Sunday, I'm skiing really well, for me, and haven't even fallen yet. It's late in the afternoon, and I want to go on Snowflake Bentley. That's a beginner's trail. Nanci goes on some harder trail, so I do Snowflake alone...and I wipe out. I think the tip of my left ski gets stuck in a mogul or something. I'm told later that it looks like I did a forward flip, only my left ski binding never released, so I...break my leg...in three places! Ouch!
All I remember of it is the yellow sunlight turning into many colors when I try to stand up (the pain). Next thing I remember is the ski patrol guys, very handsome, who bundle me onto a sled with blankets and take me down the rest of the way. Eventually I get taken to the hospital and the leg is x-rayed, put in a cast from toe to top of thigh, and you know the rest.
When I got to school that Monday (at ADL, of course), I am teased mercilessly by all the boys, who can't believe I am such a klutz that I could fracture my leg on Snowflake Bentley. I still remember Scott Potter's face and what a great time he had teasing me about my incredibly stupid luck.
The cast was on for 4 months! Our skirts were so short then, the cast came up to the very top of my thigh and that's about where our skirts ended. We have a photo of me with that big old cast on and my crutches!
That's my Bolton Valley memory. I hope yours are less painful. Please tell some!
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