The Reason I Don't Ski.

When I was in my youth my Aunt Candy and her family used to come every year for spring break and we would all go skiing. It was pretty much the only time I'd go so I never got very good at it.
Roughly 11 years ago it was that time again, and we decided to go to Snowbird. Typically we would go to Alta, but we had some snowboarders in our midst so we decided to go somewhere where they could join us. I was familiar with Alta... I knew the runs I liked and I knew what I could handle. Snowbird I didn't know.
My cousin Michelle is an avid snowboarder and she would go to snowbird all the time, so I stuck with her and she would tell me what runs she thought I could handle.
In the early afternoon, the sun was blazing there was a crisp chill in the air I was getting into my skiing groove. Michelle wanted to do this slightly more difficult run and she wanted me to go with her (along with everyone else) I was nervous because I had never done it, so I asked her how the hills were... if they were really steep. She assured me they weren't bad.
So there I am skiing along... bits of snowy mist attaching to my sunwarmed face. It was the perfect day.
Then I turn a corner and see... a drop off... you could hardly call it a hill for how long and steep it was. Fear filled me to my very core. Usually there are "options" another way to go to miss the danger of that hill. I looked around but much to my chagrin saw nothing. Michelle was already at the hill. I says to her I says, "Uh Michelle, I thought you said there weren't any steep hills." To which she replied, "Well I knew you wouldn't come otherwise." Oh... cool, yeah that's fair... thanks for that.
I was seriously terrified. I just looked down this hill thinking how I could possibly do this and come away unscathed. It looked bleak.
So as kind of a joke I was like, "Well I'll just sit on my butt and slide down..." So I sit down, but not on the snow... on my skis, fully intending on not actually sliding down on my butt, but then I started to slide. Because of how I was positioned I couldn't stand back up and stop myself. I started picking up speed rather rapidly, and panic set in. I had absolutely no control over my speed, my direction, and stopping was not an option at this point.
I continued to pick up speed and I knew if I didn't figure out a way to stop myself this could end very badly so I put my hand down on the right side to slow me down. Apparently my speed was too much for this and all it did was shoot my body from the sitting position to the rolling-down-the-hill-as-a-human-snowball position easily comparable to what we've all seen numerous times in cartoons.
So there I am tumbling down the hill with one thing on my mind "Please don't make me break Michelle's sunglasses." Apparently you don't think too clearly when you are near death.
I tumble and flip and flail for what seemed like forever, then finally I come to a stop. About an inch of snow on my face. Nary a ski, pole, beanie nor glove remaining near my body... it was a "garage sale" the likes of which no one had ever seen before, I'm sure. Again first thought, "the sunglasses are still in tact... thank heaven" I look up the hill to see where all of my ski-belongings ended up. When my glance made it to the top of the hill all I see is dear family, laughing to the point of no control. Some keeled over, some laying down, some pointing.
I haven't been skiing since.