Moving forces you to prioritize. Un-pack the fajita maker first or find the wine glasses? Store the Christmas decorations or just put them up? (Only 75 days to Christmas and those boxes are on top of the Halloween ghouls anyway.) And who knew one could accumulate so much ski stuff? In my corner of the world it is a seasonal sport, but the equipment, clothes, accoutrements and doo-dads took up more than their 4 months share of the year in the moving van.
Starting with the skis… I mean one pair of feet; one pair of skis, right? And yet, I am sure I unpacked 8 of them. Ok, that included the strap on wooden child’s skis my sons scooted around on, but still, I am not counting all the ski Christmas ornaments or hat pegs. And I put the patio chair made from ski tips in a whole other category. The skis I transported from one home to the next were perfectly good, usable snow skis (mostly) that I just can’t part with. But only one pair has been under my Langes in the last 3 or 4 seasons.
There are the straight skis I bought at a bargain price just before the season in which I let myself be talked into “shaped skis” by my octogenarian skiing guru dad. They are practically brand new and I am quite sure I will clamp them to my boots at least one more time. The old blue Hart skis with the Marker swivel heel bindings were my first metal core planks and there is just no good reason to let them go. The fourth pair are my rock skis. You know, the ones that date from the season before your current skis and are intended to be used before snow covers the entire hill the first time out or when your last run boasts a melting “fountain mountain” and patches of green grass. Then there are the super long, super stiff pair, and the really short flexy pair—one for racing and the other for “bumps.” I am told that with age my knees will forbid the practice of either one and when that time comes I will ditch the skis—but until then? I mean I just can’t predict when I am going to make it to the Senior Olympic finals but I want to have the right pair of skis when I do! Most carefully transported were the current favorite pair of Rossi’s. Curved just enough to turn me down the hill with little more than a shift in weight, long enough to let me carve all the way through on a “hard packed” surface and short enough to allow me play time in the evenly spaced manufactured mogul field or carefully manicured glades. These are the skis that will stay zipped in their bag ready at a moment’s notice for a chance to have a mountain top experience. I suppose I could have left all the others in the house I vacated since this pair is the only one that actually gets snow time. The 8th pair too will come along anytime I relocate. Old, maple boards, sanded smooth and rounded on top, flat on the bottom. Rich, brown color with abstract wood grain curls and leather straps that held the cold wet boots of pioneer skiers. These hang on the wall as decoration and inspiration. It is a crazy sport made so easy with today’s equipment. With all this history and all these skis, there is just no excuse to stay inside when it snows—even if the new house does need work.
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