Moonlight Skiing and Burning Hearts

With everyone around me receiving bears, flowers and chocolates I want to dedicate this post to all the single folks out there. Valentines day is not a day to sit inside and cry about your love life; if you are single, there are plenty of ways to celebrate. Celebrate the fact that you left your last relationship and are in a better place or celebrate the fact that your last significant other gave up the best thing that happened to him/her and therefore you can eventually give your heart to someone who will actually deserve it.

But what the hell do I know, Cupid has a hard time finding me.

So what were my Valentines Day plans? Moonlight cross country skiing and burning paper hearts. Not psychotic at all really.

So one of my best friends Jen and myself were ready to take on the most annoying night of the year with an adventure of our own.

Thankfully the night was perfect–weather wise. After months of barely making temperatures above 0, the 19 degree night felt almost warm enough to venture through the woods with no coat.

While we kept our coats on, our snow pants were left behind (bad choice #1) and our only gloves were thin cloth gloves not meant for any outdoor activity that included being physical (bad choice #2). Neither of us had ever Cross Country Skied so we were sure this would most likely turn into a shit-show…and of course that’s exactly what happened.

We showed up to the lodge and asked one of the workers fitting us for skies if we would have a lesson before being thrown out into the horror story forest. He laughed and said “nope we just through you out there and let you learn yourself!” laughing back we replied “perfect!”.

Okay…didn’t realize he was being serious.

So for anyone who cross country skies, they probably are thinking about how ridiculously easy it is. Being a snowboarder myself, I thought it would be no problem.

LOL at me.

Out of the lodge it took us approximately 10 minutes just to get the damn skies on. I mean you literally jam your toe into the front…sounds easy right? Apparently not. After finally getting mine on I wobbled back up to Jen to assist her only to awkwardly hold her ski while almost falling over and my ski poles flying in all directions. Eventually after five people road past without handing any tips we got it together and headed out for the actual trail.

The beginning of the trail was quite nice. The sky gave a glow from the city in the distance and snow lit up the woods. Mixed together it created a very serene setting. I couldn’t wait to get deeper in the woods and light some hearts on fire.

Our wooded adventure came to a halt at the bottom of a first hill. Again, at the beginning we were thrown out with no instruction. So getting up the hill was just a wing-it situation. We made it up the hill a pretty well, and feeling accomplished we though maybe we were getting the hang of this.

Wrong.

The next thing you know we find ourselves approaching a giant hill that we aren’t expected to climb up…but somehow expected to go down. Lawd. I thought cross country skiing was made so you didn’t have to down hill ski? No? Okay.

So at the top of this hill I decided I’m just going to bomb it. Convinced I was going to hit a tree on the way down you could say I felt awesome when I realized I was at a halt at the bottom. Score.

Poor Jen didn’t receive the same kind of luck from the ski gods. About half way down her tailbone met the ice. Stuck on the hill and tangled in her gear I attempted to waddle up the hill for some aid only to constantly get there then slide a bit down the hill backwards. By the time I was actually to her, she was up and sliding down the hill on the narrow path which I was now mostly blocking. Perfect.

We were untangled and soon she was safely at the bottom and I was in the midst of turning around and dive-bombing the hill again.

Now at the bottom of the hill, Jen was soaking wet from her spill. Rolling around in the snow without snow pants is not so fun. We then decided it was much deserved to take a break and burn the paper hearts for anti-valentines day. A little to excited I reached into my pocket only to discover the hearts had somehow fallen out on the path. Can’t two girls in the middle of the woods burn hearts in the most non-psychotic way possible without losing them?!

Poop.

Determined to find those hearts I decided it was best if I waddled back up that devil hill and search the path thinking they must have fallen out in that stretch. Of course while waddling back up the hill we also realized we had lost our car keys and my camera lens cap. Thank you ski lords, for making this night perfect.

Here I go up the hill before taking my spill face first in the snow. Life is great…Life is good. However while on the ground I spot a lump in the snow that must be one of our lost items. I manage to crawl to it, YAY KEYS! Okay, so we aren’t going to be stranded so the night is looking up. At this point the trail closes in a half hour, so Jen is now making her way up the hill to try to get back to the lodge in time. Thankfully on her way up she spots my lens cap which I had somehow missed. However, in attempt to pick up the lens cap, the hill wins again with another spill.

Now I want you to all know the falling in super long skies and poles around your wrists makes for a not-so-easy time getting up, let alone getting up on a hill.

Thank the lord we were at the top, the only other obstacle in our way was the first hill we had to climb up. Of course the only approach to that one was also dive-bombing it. That hill failed to win in the battle, so boo-ya.

We searched that whole path and of course the paper hearts were nowhere to be found. I think I slightly cried on the inside. Pissed, wet and over the skiing shindig we made it back to the lodge where we turned in our skies than stole information packets to burn outside at the fire next to the lodge.

Pretending they were hearts we got to burn them in a large fire and warmed our frozen hands.

The night definitely ended on a high note though because although we were wet and our pride was a bit dented, nothing could hold us back from some chocolate malts that were calling our name. I mean food wins over everything.

Moral of the story: Who the hell cares if you have a valentine? Grab a friend and go make some memories.