I am the first person in my family to ever ski.

Growing up as an Army brat, I never lived anywhere near a ski resort, let alone a mountain. But when I landed a reporting job at The Aspen Times and moved to the Roaring Fork Valley in July, all anyone could talk about was skiing.

So by the time the first snow fell and I snagged my gear from a ski swap, I was more than ready to hit the slopes.

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“Ski” is a generous term, however, for what I was doing during my first 30 minutes on Sunlight Mountain.

As soon as I clipped into my skis, I almost crashed into a group of bystanders. I didn’t realize how slick and quick skis are on the snow, so I fell onto my back and just kept sliding while yelling, “Excuse me! Sorry!”

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As I struggled to get up, I noticed the bystanders were laughing, but I know they weren’t laughing at me (right?). And even if they were, I was laughing at myself already.

Once I got up with the help of my coworker-turned-ski instructor Skyler Stark-Ragsdale, we were slowly off to the ski lift.

We took the Tercero ski lift first, and the liftees were extremely nice to slow down the lift for me. And getting on the lift was a lot easier than I initially thought it would be.

Though I have a minor fear of heights, riding the lift was a surreal experience. Watching the skiers and snowboarders coming down the mountain, being above the treetops, watching the beautiful surrounding mountains slowly come into view.

This serenity was cut short, however, because getting off the lift did not go as planned. I dropped one of my poles and immediately fell as soon as I got off. Another generous liftee was lying in wait to help me get up and hand me my pole, and before long Skyler and I were off down the mountain once again.

After several falls, “pizzas” and “french fries,” and learning how to turn, Skyler and I made it to the start of the Primo ski lift. We had the bright idea that I was going to ski top to bottom on my second ski run ever.

This view was even more incredible, with views of the entire valley making their way into sight the higher we went.

But the higher we went, the more nervous I was becoming because of the impending dismount off the ski lift.

And this dismount was even worse and even more embarrassing than the first one. I straight launched myself off the lift and fell onto my back. One of my skis even popped off. Again, another liftee was there to help me up and give me my ski.

At this point, I realized that learning to ski is about perseverance, and teaching one how to ski has to be about patience. A Montana native, Skyler has been skiing since he was two-years-old. Skiing may almost be as natural as walking to him.

Just watching him and others ski down the mountain made me realize how lucky I am to get to call this place home and even have the chance to ski. Skiing culture is immense and engrained in thousands of people’s lives, and at the top of Sunlight Mountain, I was beginning to see why.

The drive to master staying upright on skis and feel the brisk wind on my face and forests flashing by and mountain peaks rising in the distance gave me motivation to keep going.

Now here’s when it started to get good.

We took Grizzly Road. Right off the bat there are two steep sections (at least they looked steep to me). Doing pizza the whole way down, though, I began getting the hang of controlling my skis and which leg to put weight on to turn. Of course, this run didn’t go without falls, including one into about three feet of fresh snow off the side of the run, but I finally felt like I was starting to get the hang of it.

About halfway down, Skyler and I decided to take a break. We sat down on the run and took in the view. We could see Carbondale and Mount Sopris and other surrounding mountain peaks as far as the eye could see. It was a completely different perspective than anywhere else I have been in the valley.

The clearest blue sky, the gentlest breeze, and an almost deafening but peaceful silence enveloped us and took my breath away almost as much as the steep sections we had just skied. Looking back at the progress we had made so far, I could see some of my novice carvings in the snow.

After a while we decided to finish the run, and this was my favorite part of the day. We skied past forests, and I only had a couple of minor falls. I was beginning to understand how to turn, and I made less of a “pizza” and more of a “french fry” with my skis, increasing my speed the more confident I became.

Once we came out of the cat trail, we were back on the main run. I was passing places I had repeatedly fallen hours before, but this time I was staying upright on my skis. We skied back into base camp (me proud to not fall, Skyler fitting in a flip). I was amazed at how much progress I had made in such a short time, as well as how much I had fallen in love with the sport. 

Skyler, liftees, ski patrol, and other skiers and snowboarders were kind to me all day, so thank you all for making room for me and allowing me to fail many times but also picking me back up.

I already cannot wait to ski again.

From a teacher’s perspective

There is no metaphor for learning to ski. It’s one of those things you learn young enough so you don’t have to remember the hardship and frustration of your first time down a mountain. Or, as an adult slipping down snow with foreign equipment for the first time, people whipping past you toward the lift, it is plenty hard — and frustrating.

But it was neither of those things for Regan. Her first day on skis couldn’t have gone much better.

As we pushed ourselves onto the “Loop” at Sunlight Mountain on Friday, “Tercero” lift line in our sites, Regan shifted her skis into a snow plow, put her weight on her downhill leg… and careened out of control past a group of onlookers, back on the snow, skis pointing straight down hill.

She spun out, dusted herself off, gave a quick laugh, and then somehow, without ever skiing or taking a formal lesson, made her way to the lift, alternating between “pizza” and “french fry.”

We soon found ourselves at the top of the mountain, Sopris glistening in the distance, Carbondale nestled at the valley floor.

It had been a long time since I’d taught someone to ski, so I wasn’t altogether confident in my ability to communicate about the unintuitive distribution of weight required to stay balanced, nor had I thought about how to explain a turn, a pole plant, much less a snow plow.

But without much trouble, and probably with a poor explanation from me, Regan managed to shift her weight from one ski to the other, keeping her center of gravity downhill, and made her first few turns off the top.

When we encountered a steeper section of “Grizzly” she analyzed it for a moment and, to my amazement, took the leap over the edge of the pitch.

Apart from one semi-burial in deep snow off the side of “Grizzly Road,” we made our way toward the lodge without major mishap, Regan looking balanced, using her poles, and dialing in her turns.

Learning to ski in your mid-twenties is no easy feat. It takes a willingness to fall and lose control, as well as plenty of persistence. But having never skied before in her life, Regan successfully descended an entire mountain in her first couple hours in the sport.

She will no doubt take her first ride up the Ajax Gondola before long.