Travel Writing: If you aren't crashing, you're not skiing.

I stare at the fine rope that tugs brightly clothed skiers up the steep, snow plated mountain. The 'L bar' looks like a terrifying contraption that awaits its fellow thrill seekers to injure them in any way possible. But that does not stop me. 

As I shuffle with a waddle of penguins, I realise that I have over dressed for this exercise. The Austria weather experts told me to wrap up with one more layer than I have previously worn, as we could experience a snow storm. How inaccurate. The smouldering sun gleams on my panicked, factor 50 coated, face.

My instructor has not told me how to conquer these 'L bar' lifts, so I will take this task as a learning curve if I fail. Before I do, I notice how beautiful the landscape is around me. The mountains appear carved and topped with a sprinkle of light, floury snow. The refreshing breeze glides around me and the tall, oppressive trees that stand tall with pride. 

The weak ‘L bar’ lift charges towards the panicked boy and I, that leads me to think that the lift must be for two people.

“Ready?” he questions. I replied quickly, asking him what to do when the L bar reaches us.

“Just lean on the bar…”

“Like your about to sit on a chair!”

I must look petrified.

Instantly, the boy is pulling the L bar lift from behind, which pulls me so fast I nearly fall backwards. Panicked, I look down at my skis and realise I have to focus to keep my balance. I sight with relief as I admire the beautiful Austrian landscape and laugh to myself how deadly this lift appears to be. The snowflakes start to gather around me and drop from the trees that lead the way to the top of the mountain.  

Abruptly, the ski lift comes to a halt and the skiers in front of me have lost their balance.  The pair hit the ground; both of them have lost their skis. The lift clicks and we start to glide up the mountain, we both now realise we have to go around the unfortunate skiers.  

“Go left!” the boy shouts at me. I steer my skis left and dodge the people led on the slippery snow surface.

When we reach the top, we have to remove ourselves from the small pole that supports both of our body weights. As I was on the right, the boy skis of first, but before I can ski in the opposite direction the pole pulls me towards a fence, as it is tucked under my jacket. Feeling anxious, I fall and roll to the other side, probably one of the best moves I have done yet.

To get to my group, I have to ski down a small mountain. Bending my knees, turning from side to side, lifting over small jumps, I make it to my instructor who greets me with a smile.