Wood-skiing

                Green, brown, and white were flying through my eyes.  I felt like I was flying in and out through the trees; weaving through the woods like a bird.  The hard icy wind was beating my face while I zoomed on my skis through the elegant pine trees.  My whole family was at Heavenly Ski Resort at Lake Tahoe and we were enjoying every minute of it.  My mom and sister don’t ski that much, but , my brother, my dad, and I are pretty darn good.  I am definitely the most daring skier in the family.  I will ski every single slope at Heavenly no matter how difficult it is.  I personally like wood-skiing the best.  Wood-skiing is just skiing in the trees which are not on the actual trail.  The best thing I love about wood skiing is that there are no boundaries.  You can ski wherever you want and explore new places!  Now let’s get back to my wood skiing.  There is probably no greater thrill than the thrill of flying, right?  Well, skiing through woods is like flying.  Your skis glide over the snow and ice so smoothly and fast that it feels as if you are lifting off from the ground.  I was with my dad and my brother wood skiing.  My dad always went first because he knew all the nooks and crannies in the woods.  He would take us to little jumps here and there and we would literally fly over them as we caught air.  We had just finished another wood run and we were heading down to the Dipper Express lift when my brother did the funniest thing ever.  While he was skiing behind me on a fairly simple slope, his ski caught an edge and he did a somersault!  His left ski quickly popped off as he slid down the slope on his butt!  I skied down to the bottom and he was a little dazed so I unclipped my skis and hiked up to get his.  The place where he lost his ski was a good distance up the slope so I couldn’t see the actual ski.  I forgot to mention that before we arrived at the resort, there was a huge snow storm that added two feet of fresh powder.  If you have ever skied, you probably know that walking around in your ski boots is pretty hard and strenuous.  And it’s even worse when you have to hike up a steep slope with two feet of fresh powder just to fetch your brother’s ski.  So I trudged up the hill slowly and reluctantly.  Every few steps, my boots would sink into the powder and I would have to pull hard to get them out.  It was definitely not a fun job.  It was worth seeing my brother do a somersault though!  Finally, after ten minutes of hard hiking, I finally reached the spot where my brother lost his ski, and guess what, it wasn’t there!  At first I thought maybe I had walked too far up the slope, but then I saw the skid marks on the snow where my brother flipped.  My dad and brother were getting restless down at the bottom of the slope.  I was too far away to hear what they were trying to say to me, but I could see that my dad was holding something in the air.  They were too far away so the object he was holding was just a long, thin blur to me.  I just decided to keep on looking for my brother’s ski.  After I confirmed that I was in the exact spot where my brother lost his ski, I searched everywhere.  I was really getting frustrated now!  Then I realized something!  Maybe his ski was buried under all the fresh powder by the impact of his fall!  I started digging immediately, but with no luck.  I decided to give up.  So I slid down to the bottom of the slope on my butt.  As I slid down, I saw a thin ski track running the whole way down next to me, starting at the point at which my brother lost his ski.