I wrote this personal narrative a long time ago, the paper is dated October 4, 1985. I thought for my first post it would be fun for you to see what my writing was like when I was your age. I received a B+ from my teacher. As a teacher I would not have given my work such a high grade. There are many elements we will learn about this year missing from my personal narrative. I can’t wait to revise it and make it better with you in writer’s workshop.
After reading, post a comment- make it positive. Write one thing you liked about my personal narritive and one thing you think I could do to make this a better peice of writing.
A Day at the Slopes
As I rolled out of bed into a cold room, I could not help wondering why I was waking up at five o’clock in the morning to go skiing. Everyone looks so good on the slopes and seems to have so much fun skiing. Personally, I felt like a two and a half ton, fourteen year old. It was hard zipping my ski coat over long underwear, two turtlenecks, sweatpants, a sweater, and my insulated ski pants. Ski bunny I was not. After putting my makeup on and getting my ski gear together, I was ready for a day at the slopes, a day of learning how to ski.
Dad drove me to the bus, where I was meeting Barbara. After a two hour, uncomfortable, hot bus ride, we arrived. Barbara wanted to start on the more advanced slopes, but I convinced her to start on the bunny hill, since it was my first time.
At the top of the hill, I saw people getting off this funny looking thing. It was a long bar hanging from a cable with two bars extending from the bottom. My attention was drawn away by Barbara’s remark on how easy the hill looked. I looked down a long white hill with bodies lying all over it. It did not look all that easy to me.
The ski lodge was located at the top of the bunny slope, so I didn’t have to worry about dealing with that strange contraption that was transporting people up the hill until I first made it down the hill. Barbara was off in a flash. I tried to follow but after five feet, I fell. It became a long struggle to get up. I could not imagine anyone managing to stand up while these long pieces of fiberglass sticks were attached to their feet. Not only that, but my skis were pointed downhill. Every time I started to lift my bottom off the cold frigid ground, my skis began to move me down the hill and back I would slide on my bottom. I eventually rose to a standing position and tried to start off slowly. I quickly picked up speed. As I came soaring down the hill, I realized I was knocking people over left and right. At the bottom, I found myself in a huge snowdrift, but I made it in one piece.
In between laughs, Barbara slowly made her way over to me. While helping me up, she promised that we would go into the lodge at the top to warm up.
As we approached the lift, Barbara told me it was called the T-Bar lift. That made sense; it looked like an upside down T. The long chipped blue bar hung from a not so strong looking cable. Two small bars at the bottom looked a little to small to fit my overly cushioned bottom and hips. Looking at the people riding I could see the weight of their bodies putting strain on the sagging cable. But everyone seemed to be upright and gliding up the hill without effort. It looked less difficult to ride than turn out to be.
We both got on with no problems. As we leaned against the bar a surge of power jolted the bar forward and we were off. Half-way up the hill I began to release the tense muscles I had been contracting out of fear. Barbara began to demonstrate how she could ski parallel with her skis almost touching. That did it, her skis crossed and before I knew it she was no longer sitting next to me. The t-bar was no longer balanced, two and a half tons on one side and noting on the other!
Within split second, the T-Bar jerked. The blue-chipped metal bar I had been leaning against angled up and slid underneath my jacket, my sweater, my long underwear and was scraping against my skin. I could feel the tip of the bar at the nape of my neck. As it dragged me up the hill snow accumulated in piles on the inside of my jacket, my face was covered in snow- I was sure I was going to have frostbite. I wiggled to try to free my self and more snow began to push itself inside my pants.
The lift stopped and an instructor helped me up. I felt as though everyone was watching and laughing at me, so much for being a snow bunny on the slopes with perfect hair, cute outfit, and great makeup.
After my wonderful experience, I found myself taking lessons. I now know how to ski and can ride the T-bar like a pro. But I will always remember my first experience.