by Ann Atwood

Created on: January 20, 2009

AN OBSTACLE REPLACED BY JOY

I've been spending a lot of time reflecting on my life. We do a lot of that as we age. I've had many challenges in life, some I have met head on, others I have run away from. Overcoming an abusive early childhood may have made me a stronger person. At least that's my belief. Adversity can make us shy away from obstacles or it may make us more determined to challenge what life gives us. One thing that I loved to do was taken away from me for many years, but I have now reclaimed it to be part of my life once again.

When I was a young teenager, my father introduced me to one of his friends who was a skier. Now this was many years ago mind you. The hill that I learned to ski on had a rope tow, two "hills" and no snow making. This was a learn to ski by trial and error plan. I went up the hill and blindly flew down it. I didn't have any fear because I really didn't know the danger. My father's friend simply said "Point your skis down the hill and go." Fortunately it was a small hill and the only injury I experienced was a pulled muscle in my neck and that was due to the rope tow. Despite the limitations provided to me I knew that I enjoyed the sport.

When I met my future husband, I discovered he enjoyed skiing as well. Together we found a ski area not far from where we lived. At that time it was called "Satan's Ridge." That name should have told us something right then and there. Shivers run down my spine even today thinking of the limited services they provided. To be honest, I can't remember if they had snow making machines. What I do remember however, was lots of ice and very little snow. I think back on those days wondering how we never killed ourselves while skiing there. After our engagement and later our marriage, we continued to seek out larger areas that provided more services and better snow cover. After our two sons were born we didn't have a lot of extra time and even less money, so our skiing adventures took a back seat to more important issues. However, in my mind I still longed for the sport that gave me a sense of freedom.

Two years after my husband and I divorced, I went back to school at a local community college. That's when I found out there was a ski club. I attended their first meeting, becoming the secretary. We planned a week's ski vacation to Stratton Mountain in Vermont, but how in the world would I ever come up with the money to pay for such an extravagance. The club members decided to have a raffle and for every

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