The time I almost died in Michigan...

So, I realize that I haven't really told you guys much about our trip to Michigan last month. The main reason for that is that 1. I took maybe 5 pictures with our nice camera (the rest are on our iPhones) and 2. all of the pictures that we did take are still on the devices used to take them!

Today, though, I'll tell you the story about how I almost died on Boyne Mountain in Michigan. 

Seriously, not exaggerating.

Okay, maybe just a little bit.

We started out the morning on a great note. The Red Wings had won the night before, and I had the pleasure of using the in-room jacuzzi tub. What can be better than that?

So, we hit the slopes.

We find the first lift, and head up. Now, I have skied before a few times, but am not a pro by any stretch of the imagination. Josh, who boards instead, wanted me to try snowboarding. (Apparently it's embarrassing if your girlfriend skies and you snowboard??) I appeased him. I was armed with $300 of brand spanking new equipment (40% off sale - whaaa?) and ready to give snowboarding a try.

When we got to the top of the lift, I see the sign for green, and head that way. We take our time. I fall approximately 42 times, but, I expected that, so I'm not discouraged. I can go heel side all day long. I just don't like to go faster than .5 mph and I am useless on my toes. 

We finally make it down and what do you know - that lift is the only lift accessible from that side of the mountain. So, we head back up again.

We get to the top of the lift, and Josh easily slides right off. I, however, somehow missed my cue to get off the chair, and end up still sitting when the lift starts to descend the mountain. I've never seen someone ride the lift down, so in my mind, you aren't allowed to do so. So what do I do? I panic. And jump. Well, fall is more like it. I push myself off the lift and fall down down down down until I finally land hiney-first in the snow. Do you know how it feels to fall about 5' off a lift onto hard snow with a snowboard attached to one leg? Let me help: it hurts. 

But, my physical injuries were minimal compared to the emotional trauma I just endured. I mean, the entire mountain just listened to me scream like I was being murdered and then watched me drop like Humpty Dumpty. 

At this point? I'm ready for a strong drink and a warm seat by the fire.

Josh agrees to take a break as soon as we make our way down the mountain. Perfect. I start to look for the green trails. Uh oh. There's only one. And it happens to be the one that we just went down that took us to the same lift we just came up.

If you aren't following me here, we're on the side of the mountain, and we'll keep going in circles if we keep going down the green run. The only way to the bottom where we need to be? Black or double black. Choose your poison.

This is the view to the bottom of the hill. Now, I realize that some of you are laughing right now and thinking, "What a loser - it's not that bad." But y'all, I'm a beach girl. We don't even have hills at home. Or snow. Or things you can fall off of and die. Let me fill you in a bit more...

It's abyss, isn't it. Crap.

But, according to Josh, I don't have a choice. So, I do what any grown woman would do. I start crying. And hyperventilating. So, I sit down and refuse to budge. Now, the logical thing to do would just be to take off my board and walk down. Except, I was terrified to even stand up for fear of falling down. (Plus, what kind of loser would I look like walking down?!)

If you know anything about my boyfriend, it's that he hates crying. He also hates scaredy cats. I was secretly praying for an avalanche. That ski patrol would come by and tell us that we needed to get on the back of their snowmobile because for some God forsaken reason the run was immediately closed and not safe for us to go down.

But, no, God sat back and watched. And probably had a good laugh.

Josh finally made me get up, held my hands, faced me, and we went down the mountain tandem - he on his toes, me on my heels. I couldn't take my eyes off of his board or I would start to hyperventilate and fall down.

It was so bad, Josh even said, "Note to self: Snowboarding is for dudes." Ouch. That was harsh.

So, I survived. Barely. Josh tried to call it a day, but I wouldn't let him. We ventured to the other side of the mountain, where, wouldn't you know it, there were two lifts, each with 5-6 green run choices.

We did accidentally find ourselves back on the top of that God-forsaken run again, but I was stubborn, refused to go down the black again (this time on skis) and trudged further up the mountain, skis and poles in hand (I'm sure people thought I was crazy) until I had walked up to where another lift unloaded and I had more green options. 

Skiing/snowboarding was fun and all, but I'll stick to my surfboard and the nice, soft ocean from now on!