Attack of the Ski Bug

Years ago I spent my free time in the winter skiing. So early on in my relationship with the man who was to become Le Husband, I took him skiing. I wanted him to love it like I did and thought it would be great fun spending time together on the slopes. Le Husband was a beach boy, so that white cold stuff was foreign to him. So off we went to a small local hill, strapped on the boards and watched the magic happen. Or not! After working hard on his snow plow and falling downing the hill a few times . . . a valiant effort on his part . . . skiing was quickly voted off the list of fun things to do.

Through the years lots of other stuff, like getting through college and building a career, interfered with any more attempts to get Le Husband interested in attempting skiing again. Being the beach boy that he is, when winter snows roll in, his reaction is less than enthusiastic. I get the same question every winter, “Tell me again why you like this weather?!” And my comments of “maybe if we found something fun to do in winter, you’d like it better” were usually ignored or met with some mumbled comment about beaches or surfing.

So recently when good friends invited us on a weekend ski trip, I thought Le Husband was being such a good sport by agreeing to hit the slopes for an entire weekend. So we headed out early so that he’d have an opportunity to take a lesson before our friends arrived. The ski gods were smiling upon us this weekend, because we had beautiful blue skies, warm sunshine and perfect snow conditions. The ski lesson went wonderfully, the friends arrived and we all hit the slopes!

Something very strange began to happen to Le Husband. It started out small, just a twinkle in his eyes and a turn up at the corner of his mouth. However, by the end of the weekend Le Husband had definitely been bitten by a serious case of the Ski Bug!! How serious you say? Well it’s now been two weeks since that ski weekend (yes only two weeks!) and he is equipped from head to toe in new ski apparel and equipment. Along with that, is the shiny new 2011 season pass that was purchased before we even left the slopes on that fateful weekend!

On our last ride up the chair lift at the end of a perfect weekend of skiing, Le Husband looked at me and said “Why haven’t you insisted that we ski every winter?” Go figure!!