Time to master the art of cross country skiing

I let it slip to John that I’d once been on a dry ski slope when I younger, so he hired me some cross country skis and we went out skiing for the day.  However, my exploits on the dry slopes of Pembrey were around 20 years ago, and it’s fair to say that I don’t remember my skis then being quite as thin as the ones I’m wearing today.

To give me a fighting chance John and Stella kindly walk me up hill (Creagan Gorm), from Glenmore, then explain that we will ski down the other side.

Some way between Creagan Gorm and Tulloch, Stella manages to locate a cairn created to mark the spot where one of her distant relatives died, whilst staggering back home across the moor drunk one night in 1885.  Later on the walk we also discover an abandoned croft, coincidentally built in 1885.  John discovers that fascinatingly, the ceilings have been lined with newspaper from the same decade.  We get a bit lost and end up getting back to Tulloch after dark.

It’s a fine line between sliding down the hill in a controlled manner and feeling like I might not be in control anymore.  It turns out that starting on a down hill slope was not an advantage.  In fact it was bad.  As I had no idea how to stop once I hit a slope I would either crash into a mound of heather, lose balance, or just sit down to avoid either of the other two options.  There was only so many times I could fall over, going downhill, before I opted to walk.  On the flat things are different, and by the end of the day I’m liking skiing a lot.  I’d like to give down hill skiing a go sometime, with some proper downhill skis.  And maybe some tuition.