Skiing with my ex husband, Larry, was not all fun and games. We had some hairy experiences on the slopes with him. And when I say ‘we’, I mean me and my two young children, David and Sarah. Larry tended to want to go out in questionable weather and take chances on advanced slopes. He often persuaded us all to go along with him.

There were three skiing ‘adventures’ that stick out in my mind. The first was in Park City, Utah. Our kids were about seven and twelve. Larry convinced us to do one more run as the weather was turning ugly. We were three-quarters of the way up the mountain on the open ski lift when the whiteout started.

A whiteout is snow that blows so hard and thick, that there’s almost no visibility. The ski lift stopped. Fortunately for us, it started again and got us to the chalet on the mountaintop. Others were not as lucky. The lifts stopped again and stranded people for hours out in the cold and the snow, dangling high above the slopes.

We, along with many others, were also stranded. But we were stranded inside the ski lodge with heat and hot cocoa. We were there for about two hours, until they could get a ski instructor up to rescue us. He would lead us all down the mountain to safety.

We had to line up and follow the instructor, single file, very slowly, down the mountain. You could barely see the person in front of you. We put our daughter in the middle of our group because she was wearing a shocking pink snowsuit that was like a beacon in the dark! She thought this was great fun! We made it down and lived to tell the tale.

Another time, the four of us were skiing in Italy. They are less safety-conscious on the slopes over there. There are no lights and no one sweeps the runs after closing to round-up strays, like they do in America. So we were skiing without a safety net there. Larry had taken us over to a second mountain, a distance away from the one where our car was parked. It started to get dark. We had to make it back to our mountain get to our car before dark. We had to cross-country ski, as quickly as possible, across one icy mountain to get to the other. It was like trying to ice skate on skis. We were exhausted and terrified. But we all kept our cool. Except Larry, who totally freaked out.

By the time we got to our mountain, the gondolas were already closed for the day. We had to ski down in the falling dusk. It was very, very close. We made it to our car just as night fell. This was the kind of situation where you know it’ll make a great story if you can just survive it!

The third story takes us to the top of a Black Diamond/Most Difficult ski run. With both kids. Larry insisted we could all handle it even though Sarah was just learning to ski. She was good, but she was still a beginner. Larry didn’t know that the slope had not been ‘groomed’, which took it to the Double Black/Super Difficult level.

Once we started down, we realized our mistake but were committed. There was no way back up, only down. The run consisted of numerous large moguls, which are big man-made bumps. They were mostly chopped up ice, which made them harder to maneuver over. David made it down with no trouble. He ended up anxiously waiting for us at the bottom for the next hour.

Larry, Sarah and I were struggling, to say the least. There were a handful of other hapless skiers struggling down with us. We were all falling constantly. But when Sarah fell, she would lose her skis and poles, which would slide farther down the mountain. A few good Samaritans helped us nurse Sarah through this ordeal. I stayed with Sarah while Larry and some others retrieved her equipment. They then had to walk back UP the mountain to Sarah to give it to her. I had to get her back in her skis and then rinse and repeat. It was a laborious process.

The post script to these stories is that neither of my children want to ski ever again. I have skied with my second husband, Tom. He is cautious and non adventurous like me. But we can’t convince the kids to come with us. No wonder!


  1. That is so idiotic I just want to scream reading it. Your first husband put your children’s lives at risk. No wonder they never want to ski again. My husband is an expert skiier having been professionally trained for six months. He always made sure that myself and the children were skiing on routes suitable to our abilities. You ignore the rules you risk injury or even death, sometimes there are no second chances.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I should have stood up to my husband more. But he was bipolar and he just would not back down from anything. He always had to get his way and it was usually easier to just give in to him than to spend all day fighting him. We never got hurt but you’re right, we definately put our kids in dnger when we should have known better.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. We have a few skiing stories of our own to tell, Ellin. Fortunately, I think our children look upon their experience with fondness.


    1. Most kids do love skiing. But my kids had to del with their bipolar father when skiing so it was not always pretty. One morning, David was suffering from altitude sickness and throwing up after breakfast. Larry was so upset that we might have to give up some runs that morning, he started to berate and yell at David in front of other hotel guests. It was a horrible scene that David never forgot. David did ski that morning despite feeling sick. He was fine but I think it left emotional scars.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. It was David, my son, who skiied down the mountain easily. Larry, my husband, was left floundering with me and Sarah.


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