Bad Chair Lift Karma……………

It was a ski day…started out like every other ski day…we hope for pow(der) and sun but sometimes get just wind and ice.  That’s been the story at Angel Fire this year.  No natural snow, just sun and wind and whaddya get?  Ice.  Well, anyway……..we did a quick run down the front and headed off to board the Chili Express, a high speed 16 minute ride to the backside, hoping for some corduroy but expecting something less.  O Well O.  We are excited about skiing with our friends.  We both decided to wait until we got to the top to visit the Pee-atorium.  Wow…cold wind at our backs and really brrrry.  Mike and I chat about the sad lack of snow and what a terrible impact that this dismal no snow ski year has had on the whole Angel Fire area but then the lift stops.  After 5 minutes, the lift starts up and snails its way up the abandoned front side of Angel Fire.  We laugh that it must have been a pretty bad dismount or maybe a loading accident that caused the chair to shut down for that long.  Ok, now we are going.  What?  Stopped again???  It’s worse this time.  We’re in the shade with a stiff “breeze” shooting up our backs and rocks 40 feet below.  I tell Mike that I sure hope that this doesn’t take too long since all the coffee I drank is now taking its toll on my bladder with a vengeance.  He says that he feels the same way.  How can he feel the same way?  He’s a MAN.  He has different “tools” available to him.  We sit.  Yikes, it is cold.  Being cold and having a bulging bladder makes for clinched sphincters.  I really need to go to Wizzconsin.  Mike commiserates with me and says that we are dumb for not going potty at the bottom.  Fine time to bring that up now, Mr. Smarty-pants.  15 minutes goes by and my mind starts examining alternative ways to make my bladder gladder if it was fladder.  Mike says that I have no choice and to just think about something else and relax.  My eyes are floating.  Yeah, “relax” he says.  How do you relax when you think that there is a distinct possibility that you are going to wet without conscious consent??  Relax.  Ok-ok.  30 minutes.  Cussing ensues.  Mike tells me to relax again and I say “just stop talking,” as I am on sensory overload and even the vibration of his voice makes me have to go that much worse.  I turn around and can see for miles but there is no one on the chair as far back as Taos.  I dream of Peoria.  Mike says “relax” and I think of fitting him with a ski pole mouth piece.  NOT HAVING FUN NOW. I cross my legs and pray.  Who is the patron saint of bladder distension?  I discuss options and the one anatomical difference that would make Mike’s situation better than mine and, as Steve Smith later quips, that would be “like whipping out your belly button” in this weather.  I don’t care; I am having a code yellow!!!!!  Oh, yes… …….the chair is moving…..7 feet and stops.  That relaxed my nether regions enough for nearly a pre-emptive strike.  Ohmygod.  WhatamIgonnado?  Another 15 minutes…..I am thinking that it would be okay if I just went a teensy bit to relieve the pressure but then… perceptible motion ……..the chair moves……..slowly it creeps and finally I am off, OFF to the bathroom!!!  How do you spell relief?  ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Ski Rule Number 13………

NEVER, NEVER, NEVER GET ON A CHAIRLIFT IF YOU HAVE EVEN AN INKLING ABOUT A TINKLING.

PS   Two days later at Monarch, the chair lift that I was on was swayed by a gust of wind and it tripped the derailleur sensor and the lift went down for 10 minutes.  I was heckled by my friends.  But you know what?  I will never disobey rule number 13 again.  I was cool.