My First Ski Trip

I was in the army. Fortunately, I was assigned to an engineering battalion in Germany rather than Viet Nam. Although I had already been trained in explosives and land mines, I was sent to Garmisch for advanced training in land mine warfare. It seemed strange to be studying something so awful in a place that was so beautiful. Just south of Garmisch is the tallest mountain in Germany. It is the Zugspitze, and it straddles the border between Austria and Germany. Upon completing my training, I was rewarded with a two days pass. The ski slopes on the Austrian side of the border are probably more famous, but the ones on German side of the border are notable. I had never skied before, and I decided this was the perfect time to try it.

I took a bus to a nice little ski lodge. I then checked into a room and rented the ski equipment. Since it was still early in the morning I boarded a shuttle bus to the slopes. A very attractive young lady sat down next to me. This was Angela. She was only an inch shorter than I am, which made her five feet eight inches tall. She had a slim, athletic body. She removed her dark glasses to reveal clear, blue eyes. We were having such a pleasant conversation that I was almost disappointed when we reached the ski area. We disembarked. We then waited for the bus driver to unload the skis. I am sure the wait was even longer than Angela had anticipated because I did not retrieve my skis until most of the other skiers had retrieved theirs.

“You have to be the most patient man I’ve ever met,” she said.

“I’m afraid you’re such a pleasant distraction that I couldn’t remember which skis I rented.”

She laughed. “I’ve been here before,” she said. “Come on! I’ll take you to the best slopes.”

For some reason my inexperience as a skier never came up during our conversation. We took a chair lift that deposited us at the top of a very steep slope. I thought it was so steep that they could have held the Olympic downhill competition on it. She smoothly and easily began her descent. I shot off the top of the hill. I fell, I tumbled, and I scattered my equipment along a large portion of the trail. Another skier was kind enough to pick up my equipment and bring it to me. I fell two more times before I made it to the bottom. By then I was a wreck. There was snow in places I never thought snow could reach.

Angela took one look at me and started laughing. “Are you all right?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Most parts haven’t frozen, and the ones that have will thaw out eventually. I guess I should have told you I haven’t skied before.”

“Yes, you should’ve.” She reached up and gently brushed some snow off my collar. “I think we should do the rest of our skiing in the lodge,” she said.

What we did in the lodge was a lot more fun than skiing. It was quite a day and quite a night. When we talked, we kept the conversation light. She told me she was a ski instructor who occasionally traveled to Europe to write about the ski facilities there. I told her I was a student who had just earned a bachelor’s degree in history before being drafted into the army. But that was all that was said about the army, and we did not discuss the war. Instead, we joked and laughed and talked about the things that made us happy.

I really wanted to spend more time with her, but I could not do it. Because of the bus and train schedules, I had to leave the next morning. We had breakfast together at the lodge.
She looked at me from across the table.

“You’re a very gentle person,” she said.

“And you’re a very beautiful person.”

She smiled, but I could see that she was concerned about something.

“Are you in danger of them sending you to Viet Nam?” she asked.

“No, they want soldiers to serve there for at least a year, and I have just under a year left to go.”

“Thank God!”

“Yes, I was lucky enough to dodge that bullet. I wish I could say the same thing about all of my friends who were killed there.”

“I wish we could say the same thing about all of the people killed there.”

The army does not like it when soldiers express anti-war views. The problem was that I agreed with her, and I said so. She took my hand, and we walked down to the bus stop.

“I’d like to see you again,” I said.

“I’d like to see you too, but I’m going back to Canada when I leave here.”

“California’s on the same continent.”

“I don’t think we should make promises we can’t keep.” She prevented any reply by throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me on the lips. The bus pulled up and the doors opened.

“Take care of yourself. Okay?”

“Okay,” I replied.

I looked back at her as I took the last step onto the bus. She flashed me the peace sign, and I responded in kind.

I know people will say this was just a one night stand, but I was a lonely soldier in a strange place during a terrible war. What Angela shared with me was more than casual sex. It was an affirmation of how wonderful life can be. I will always have fond memories of her. I hope she feels the same way about me.

First published in macsbackporch.blogspot.com on Jun. 24, 2009