“Go potty, Priscilla,” I commanded, to which she looked like she might throw a fit, but ultimately, it was freezing out, and she obeyed, walking to a clear spot in the yard.
“I just wanted to say, umm,” Ford choked on his words. It was clear he wanted to make an apology of some sort, to which I accepted.
“Look, Ford—it’s okay. I’ve been through this many times before. I’m good. I accept it, and you don’t need to apologize.” I put my hands up, pleading. “Go, do your skijoring. I’m praying for a win; I really am.” I meant what I said. I had a feeling this man would be in my prayers for a long, long time.
“Thank you. But, last night after you left, I didn’t have a way of contacting you and the Snowy Owl Inn didn’t have a way to dispatch me to your room, so I left you a message, and I just wanted to ask if you would stay one more night, but seeing you here makes me think that that prayer has been answered. . .” Hetrailed off. So much to unpack here—for the first time in a long time, I was speechless. “There’s a little starlight parade tonight after the Winter Games. Will you join me?” I wasn’t prepared for any of this—here I was ten minutes ago trying to figure out a disguise so I could watch him race.
“Sure,” I whispered. Normally I’d say something snarky like, “despite my better judgement.” But truthfully, this had never happened before. No man had ever stood before me after getting to know me and truly wanted to see me again. That being said, the bar wasn’t low—it was higher. I wanted a man just like the one that Ford was portraying at this very second, but not the one he was last night, in secret.
“Thank you. I’ll meet you here—pick you up at say, six o’clock? I gotta go. We’re required to show up in ten minutes or risk being disqualified.” He smiled.
“What are you doing here? Don’t be late! Go!” I laughed and watched as he navigated through the icy street to get to the driver's side of his truck and then drove off. Priscilla ran back inside.
“What in the world was that about, Priscilla?” I asked her, with my hand on my hip.Lord, have I looked at this situation wrong?
After a few moments in silent prayer, I felt a wave of energy wash over me. My sore legs aside, I was here to ski, and this was my last day to do so. Priscilla was already snoozing in her warm bed again, right where she was when we first arrived all those days ago. It was time to hit the slopes.
Skiing by myself wasn’t as much of a joy as it had been with Ford. I was expecting some idle chat in the gondola like always, but today, everyone in there was foreign and speaking German. Then, at the top of the mountain, the mountain hosts were slammed with a line of people. If I were to get a consultation on my best runs today, I’d spend half the morning waiting. So, instead, I tried to remember the runs that Ford took me on instead.
All was going well until a group of snowboarders came up behind me. The snow scraping noises they made as they carved off the inches of fresh powder made me panic. Were they in control? I couldn’t exactly turn around, so instead, I made an abrupt left and went into the trees. The trail in here was narrow and steeper than I thought; I was working very hard to keep my turns tight and skis tighter as I navigated through the thick wooded trail. Finally, emerging on the other side, I came up to the start of a double Black Diamond.
At first, I laughed. This wasn’t going to do in any circumstance; surely, there was a way around this. But when I looked to the right and left, every part of the terrain around me formed into a lip of a bowl that this run was. The sign, indicating the run was a double black and topped with several inches of powder, read “Dilemma.” It surely was that; yes.
Never in all my years of skiing had I encountered a run so daunting. I’d purposely avoided things this steep, hard, and out of reach for a reason—I wasn’t ready to face them. I wasn’t ready to learn the skills required of me. I wasn’t ready to grow for the challenge.
I called out to God, who instantly made me think of the correlation between this run and my dating life; or at least, the pathetic attempt at one. I had let everyone who hurt my feelings over the years dim my spirit. My mind. My confidence. I was good enough to find someone who loved me for me. I was good enough to do this ski run.
“Lord, thank You for letting me rise up to the challenge. You’ve put the desire in my heart to find a husband, and I will not back down from it. I will also not back down from this run that I’ve just stumbled upon. Please keep me safe, Lord. Amen.”As I prayed out loud, I heard a familiar scraping behind me start to creep closer and closer.
Just as I was taking my last few breaths to attempt this descent at a perfect 90-degree angle, the scraping came up right behind me, scaring me as they made an abrupt stop and coating me in powder. I may or may not have screamed, scaring them in return.
The shock and fright from the snowboarder almost running into me, and the coating of powder from head to toe, freezing every part of me that had exposed skin—like my nose, mouth and wrists— sent me moving before I was entirely ready. On the steep terrain, I couldn’t stop as easily as I could on a Blue or Green run; heck, even a regular Black run would have been easier than this. But this run was beyond an advanced level—this was for experts only. There was only one thing I could do in this very moment, and that was get a grip before it made its complete vertical drop.Spoiler alert: I did not get a grip.
I’d never screamed so much in my life. For half of the run that I remained upright and standing on my skis, my screams were coherent. For the other half where I went down on my tail end, thankfully feet first, it was more of a groan. People usually say, “It happened so fast” when things like this go down. Thisfelt like it took forever. When I finally slowed, I wondered if I had missed the Winter Games. Was it already tomorrow morning, and I’d been gone all night? Could I just go home now?
As the sliding slowed, I reached out and grabbed a hold of an aspen tree that was next to my path. From here, I would try and regain some dignity and sense of stability. Surely, a crowd would have formed at the top of the run, and they were all holding their breath to see if I was going to slide all the way back down to base. Maybe then, I could be stopped by the security for the Winter Games. Heck, maybe I could enter the games in the “human bobsled” category.
Using all the strength I had left to get a literal grip on myself, I sat up. My skis were gone. One rogue ski pole in eyesight, but after looking at it again, I realized it wasn’t mine. This must have been the skier’s trail of embarrassment. There were many who came before me—those who forged this path and the things they left behind to be remembered. I made it to my feet, but my quads were trembling uncontrollably. My ears were ringing, and I felt like I had just dropped hundreds of feet in elevation in an elevator—because I had. Between the fright and the embarrassment, I thought I’d gotten my fill of skiing for the day. A quick assessment let me know nothing was broken ormaybe I just had that much adrenaline pumping through my veins?
“Hey, are these yours?” a skier shouted out to me as he approached at lightning speed, holding my skis and poles.
“Nah, I think they belonged to that woman who slid down screaming. She already skied off. I’m just here hanging out.” I reached for the skis as the man lingered.
“That was pretty impressive back there. This is a really difficult run; probably the hardest one I’ve ever encountered,” he said, looking back. I followed his eyes and cringed at the fact that there was a crowd of people standing at the top and looking over.
“And here you are, having just glided down like it was a children's learning area.” Clipping back into my skis, my legs felt wobbly. I could tell I was going to need a minute to get my wits about me again.
“I’ve practiced this run a lot. I’ve probably done it five hundred times,” he said.
“Well, that was my first time trying a double Black Diamond. I can only say I’ve done a handful of Black Diamonds in my life. At least this one wasn’t full of moguls. I’d probably be requiring knee surgery right now if it was,” I quipped, noticingthe man was about my age. Just then, he lifted his goggles up, and I saw his face. He had a boyish charm to him as he stood there. I couldn’t help but notice him lingering.
“I like a woman that's fearless,” he said. Wait, was he flirting with me? After that abominable scene I just put on? I was covered in chunks of ice, and my throat was raw from screaming.
“God sure does have a sense of humor,” I said, to which he looked confused.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes forming a squint.
“Oh, I just was up at the top of this mountain praying for my love life and protection and now, here I am, at the bottom of the run, talking to a man. It's just funny timing, is all.”
