The Craplift

Well not unless you count SKIING. Oh man. I should probably make this a separate post (and I did). We went this time with a much bigger group of folks to Flims Laax Falera, which is a ski area somewhere in the eastern part of Switzerland. The last outing was to Engleberg, chosen because it was sure to have snow at that time of year, not for it's friendliness to begining skiiers. That time we had five people that skiied, three onlookers and wonderful crisp clear mountain views, crappy snow and hard slopes. This time we had a foot of fresh snow falling, NO visibility, 15 people including two clients, and just overall a better, more enjoyable day. We went to this place over another at the last minute because some other folks on the project team were going as well and they recommended this place as a better place for beginners, so we changed plans.

After the typical mayhem of getting boots, poles and skis for 15 people, getting to a locker, and dividing up into skill levels we boarded the various gondolas and began the day. About nine of us were together at the beginning of the first "green' run. That whittled down to five quickly as we got separated. I was with the two clients, Marc the adorable German friend of mine, Elgin the great new addition to the CRB team and to my church finding team, Bob an American client who is a pretty accomplished skier, and my favorite guy Dave as I mentioned in previous ski posts who has no fear of anything and is just natural on skis. This is Bob.We had a rough morning. The first run of the day was very difficult given the zero visibility, foggy goggles, deep snow, ill-marked trails, but the silence of the fresh power under the skis and the softness of any fall was a welcome blessing. We did a couple on the green before Dave found his hole. Dave, who went off trail for some adventure, found some indeed. He was skiing in a valley. If you can picture the triangle, point down, this valley was intersected by a catwalk, so the deep snow disguised the catwalk and he plowed into it, essentially doing a belly flop against a wall, and sunk completely into powdery quick-snow, lost a ski, and his wind. We waited for him at the bottom for awhile and when he returned he was not doing well. Not injuired, but exerted. We took a different lift to the top of the next hill intending to do one more longer green and then get lunch over by the half-pipe snowboarding competition, but this was easier said than done. Dave, once we reached the top of the next run, was in bad shape. He had really gotten clocked by the wall, or "Dave's Hole" as we dubbed it, and was dehydrated, exhausted, at higher altitude, hungry, and we feared, had a concussion. To make matters worse, the wind and snow made skiers and trail markers disappear about 40 feet infront of you and the snow was even deeper and more disguised. The green trail we picked out was closed, so blue was the only way down. We all were a bit slower on this one. This normally would have been cake to Dave, but he had to stop and collect him self between sections and I was truly worried about him, but he was a champ and made it down (and also took the focus of of ME struggling to make it down!! Whatta guy!) Above: Dave in the front, Grace behind. Below: Dave and I. I got to the bottom and completely wiped out in a full on yard-sale, threw a ski and a pole and landed backwards. It was glorious because it was so soft and puffy that it just didn't matter. I do wish that I had buttoned the "powder skirt" feature on my inner jacket which exists solely for that reason, but alas I did not. Snow in your knickers never hurt anyone I guess. That was when we found Grace (below, with Elgin), who got separated from her group and she joined us for the rest of the day.
We got lunch and ended up running into the guys from work at lunchtime that had told us about this resort. An adorable Irish boy about my age gave me a swig of this hilarious hip-flask with amaretto in it. My friend taking the picture took awhile to get the focus right so I was taking sip after sip thinking, I should fake these last ones, or I am going to be 'snockered' before I go hit the slopes again! How great is this? (for U my brudder). After lunch we made it to the Craplift. I did not stutter, I said Craplift. The second peak we went to was called Crap Suon Gion and it had a t-bar lift called the Craplift. Couldn't leave without doing that one, now could we? After the morning that we all had, we were leery about the rest of the day, but the visibility improved and we went down some of the best runs I have ever been on. Soft, almost mogul-ly snow, just gorgeous runs. Not crowded, quited, peaceful. NOT Crappy at atll. The lifts were serene and so spiritual. I just felt so... HUGGED. It was nice indeed. After the boot fiasco last time, I got a better size, so my feet didn't hurt quite as bad and I got to finish the day strong. I got separated from the group in a miscommunication, so I ended up doing the last long red (blue) run alone. It was the most challenging one for me, and it was a little icy in places and had been carved into some pretty good moguls. So yeah, I can do moguls now. I'm pretty proud of myself. In fact, I feel that after this trip I can do anything now. (I say hesitantly). But I think I have enough experience that I could get myself out of any trouble that I could get in.

I could have just taken the lift the rest of the way home, because I was cold and was starting to lose my legs, but then I just said, "Lindsey you are in the freaking Alps, you are going to DO THIS." And I did. I wiped out a couple of times, and I heard people laughing at me from the lift above, but I did not care. I was a gold medalist in my head. Shooshing. Afterwards it was a crazy round-up game, trying to collect all of the sweaty, soaking skiers and their various pieces of equipment and their stories and funneling them all to the bar for story time. Oh and how fun, to randomly run into the Irishman and his posse and to drink a few! Laughing, drying out, getting warm and just basking in the glow of ale and a day well spent. Above: John, Marc and Grace. Below: Kyle (CRB), Mary-Beth (Other Firm, but from Philly), Alistair (Irish Hipflask guy) and Wilhelm. Below that, Chris and Jill trying to be the same height for the picture. All of us "good tired" we boarded the bus back to the train station where the ride home was even more mirthful with stories of the day and translating jokes into German. My favorite quote of the ride home was when Heather pulled out a pack of "Wet Ones" for wiping off her hands and Marc (who is German) reads "Kills 99.99% of Germans. Let's try it. I bet I am in the 0.01% of Germans who survive." Thus will begin chapter 2 of the CRB quote/story log.

Above: Marc and I. Below: Chris and Tami, then Chris and Heather. In the grand plan of my life, I don't know why God has me here right now. I don't know at all. I, however, will choose to trust that these experiences, this time, is for my good. For His good, and that is giving me peace.

Signing off 'til next weekend..(when I think we are heading off to the mountains AGAIN for more ski-fun).

Yes... for my good, indeed....