"Slow down, Emily, slow down!" was all I could hear as I was accelerating down the last twenty feet of a never-ending hill that had abused my body for the last forty-five minutes. I could see the people in front of me and the only way for me to stop, or even slow down, would be to collapse onto the blanket of snow that lay beneath my unstable skis. So, with no other escape, I fell. That would make it seventeen times that I fell down that ferocious bunny hill. But now that I had made it down the hill, I was no longer intimidated by this piece of land that had been so unmerciful to me for such a drawn out period of time. I felt much more relaxed than I had about an hour earlier.
The ride to Chestnut Mountain was very nerve racking. I was very anxious and uneasy about the whole situation. That morning all fourteen of us packed ourselves like sardines into two vehicles. My friends found it amusing to harass me by telling me horror stories. They were all pros compared to me, but I guessed that anyone who has snow skied more than once could be, seeing that this was only my first time. As we pulled into the parking lot where the ski lodge was located, I had butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. As I stepped out of the van, and took a breath of the refreshing air, I noticed the beautiful scenery that surrounded me. The birds flew up above, the cheerful sun shone high in the clear blue sky, and a bulky layer of snow was protecting the trees. The wintry earth looked so immaculate and pure. .
Being a first time skier I did not own my own pair of skis, and therefor had to rent them. The friendly workers were very helpful in finding me the boot that they thought would work best for me. They also gave me skis and poles. Once I put my boots on, I tried to walk a couple of feet. Little did I know that I would feel like a child taking its first steps. Then once the skis were on I was completely reckless.