By Avery Nudel
Teacher: Bob Garrison, Thousand Oaks School
Award: Third Place, Fifth Grade Essay
I could feel the icy cold breeze spin off my face as I raced down the mountain. My jacket flapped rapidly in the forceful wind. I saw the T shaped poles lifting people to the top of the snowy slope. Their snowboards and skis dangled high above my head. Another skier zipped by leaving a clear trail in the chilly ice chips. My skis turned inward making a pizza shape. I started to slow down. The wind howled in my ears as I felt myself start to slide and lose control. The skis on my feet felt like toothpicks on a sheet of butter. I could hear shouts and cheering of the others waiting for the tricky part of the course. I knew I was going to crash any second now. I stood with my knees bent and shifted my skis into a parallel position. My face was frozen cold, but I could feel my body almost rise and start to fly.
My face hit the ground with a thud. A chill ran down my spine as soon as my neck touched the snow. My feet were heavy and I felt all the blood rush to my head. I groaned with frustration. The icy breaks of snowboards flew by my limp, tired body. I tried to pick myself up but immediately started sliding. I thought of all the things I had learned in ski school that day. Then it came to me. I sat up and moved my feet to the side. I dug the bottoms into the snow and slowly lifted my body upward. I was on my way again.
I saw my parents waving, clapping, and cheering me on I swept past the marker that ended the course and collapsed on the ground with a smile. I learned that really fun experiences might turn out to be a drag and will probably need practice in the future. I can’t wait to ski again. I hope I won’t crash!
