The Wild West

Conviction

Hats off to my 57-year-old father who once again mastered the Utah Mountains despite having back surgery just two years ago.  There was no slowing him down. I eased up a bit on Monday and Tuesday as we skied Park City since it was my first time skiing the Wild West, which was the home to the giant slalom in the 2002 Winter Olympics.  Though there was no holding back while we spent our last two days at neighboring mountain, Deer Valley, also known as Death Valley.

Deer Valley's snowmaking capabilities allowed us to access 75% of the trails despite the lack of snowfall in December.  100% would have been ideal.  I nonetheless made sure we went on every possible trail, including Conviction, a trail less traveled that could scare the devil out of Emily Rose.  I was ready to go.  I threw back my five-hour energy and aligned my ski’s with the fall line.  As for my father, well, I reminded him of the motto he taught me as a kid:  ‘no guts no glory.’  He had no choice.  Fortunately for the both of us we made it down the mountain unscathed.

Needless to say the only casualty of the week were my skis.  I almost thought the $15 insurance policy wouldn’t cover the abuse based on the man’s blank expression as I turned in the demo skis behind the counter.  I smirked, looking past the over speculation, realizing each nick represented a handful of memories that will last a lifetime.