And another one bites the dust

What does one get from an invigorating, luxurious, indulgent, three-day ski trip in Colorado?

Apparently, one gets:
- one dubious looking blue & black knee
- one (the other one) sprained knee
- an aftermath of the altitude that feels like a semi-permanent hangover
- sore arm muscles (??!!)

Is it really worth it, you might ask. And then you remember the rush of wind through your hair. The glistening white snow sparkling in the sunshine. The brilliant vistas of pure white mountainous terrain. The therapeutic relaxations in the hot tub. The stretching evenings of flowing alcohol and congenial banter. And then suddenly, corporal dysfunctions aside, you miss it terribly and lament the trip being over.

I am, most definitely, a novice. For those unfamiliar with skiing, there are four basic levels of difficulty: green (learner), blue (adventurer), black (cocky), double black (suicidal). I am, most definitely, a green-blue. What I am NOT, most definitely, (or so I found out first thing Friday morning), is a blue-black. The experience whent something like this:

By the lifts:
Seagull: (partially joking) Come to the top of this peak. It's easy.
Ficali: (incredulous) No way. Looks really steep to me.
Seagull: (semi-persuasive) Come on, you can do it!
Ficali: (naiive) You think so?
Seagull: (disbelieving Ficali's naiivete) Sure
Ficali: (total space cadet) Okay.

At the top:
Ficali: (looking down at the slope in horror) Oh no this is too steep I can't do it. Where's the lift I want to get back on the lift!
Seagull: (trying not to laugh) The only way down is to ski down.
Ficali: (thinking expletives) Oh blimey.
Seagull: (trying to be supportive) You can do it, it's not difficult. Just do it slowly, look I'll show you.

Half way down the slope:
Ficali: Like this? Am I doing it right? Is this corre - oh! OH!! WHOA!!!
Seagull: Yeah that's right you're doing grea - oh dear she's off.
Ficali: (flinging skis and poles asunder, and giving spreadeagle a whole new definition) YARD SALE!!!!

And that is the story of how my knees came to be. And the entire time, as I flew through the air, furrowed the snow with my chin, watched my skis launch themselves in different directions, and waited for Seagull to help me up, all I could do was picture myself like a cartoon character, and laugh and laugh and laugh.