So, there happen to be a fair number of interesting things to do if you are a student at UNBSJ. Most of these activities are aimed at "International" students, but hey, I am from far enough away that I could be International twice over.
We all recall the trip to the Carnaval in Quebec, and it was not too long ago that I went to the Sugar Bush to see how Maple Syrup was made... grown... whatever. Well, this time, I went skiing. I saw the add thing somewhere, and thought that perhaps I should investigate. I went down to the office where they sort that kind of stuff out, and I found out that the bus to the ski area was free, and that there were Cappuccinos after. Not only that, but getting a lift ticket for the half day, and renting equipment would only cost me $40ish. Coming from the West where lift tickets are up and around $80 without rentals this seemed to be a steal.
And thus, I signed up for the trip to Poley Mountain.
I made it to the bus and ended up seeing a large number of the same people who went to the Maple thing. I was there with one friend from my MBA class, but beyond that I still knew no one. There was a group of exchange students from Paris, who I have mentioned before, and a group of exchange students from France (two totally distinct groups). Then there were the rest of the international students who come to this kind of thing and a few of Saint John's own. On that but the Parisians could ski, and the Saint Johnners, but not really anyone else.
We drove from Saint John to Sussex, and stopped at a sizable hill. I would not have called it Poley Mountain, but rather Poley Hill, but still, it was skiable. There was snow, running lifts, not many people, and, well, I guess that is all I really need to ski. We hopped off the bus and into get rentals. They tried to detain us for lessons, but some of us were not really down with that.
I might mention that the Parisians were already causing trouble on the bus. They were swearing at the bus driver in French, and one of them was acting like a dog, including panting, tongue hanging out, and yelping/crying/barking. Hard to believe we are all in university. Anyways, back to the storyline. The people who were getting lessons were still on the bus, I had squoze through and gotten my lift ticket. I was into the rental shop, and what do I see? Parisians wreaking havoc on the place, and rental staff freaking out. I stood and waited, and was privy to some rather colourful language on the side of the rental staff. It was a good thing that I waited. In very short time I was served and given my standard issue set of foot crushing ski boots. Actually, they did not crush my feet at all and in their time they served me well. I was given skis and poles shortly after and was loosed upon Poley Mountain.
Let me say that this is the first time I have skied in a season and a half... maybe two seasons... I can't recall... and this is definitely the first time that I have skied since my back surgery. I had my skis on and I was going down, but I must say, I was a little rusty. I was taking it easy, to gauge my back, and to work off the rust, and that first run, well, a little shaky, but after that... Golden.
It was decent hill. It has some good runs for speed, and then when I found them, some good runs for light moguls. I only got to run the black and double black a few times before they shut them off. The sun was lowering in the sky and they could not lose any skiers in their little forest. At at time I began to just go for some nice high speed cruising.
Throughout this whole time I enjoyed every time I came across the Parisians. Some of them were very good skiers, but they would be eaten alive in the Rockies. I heard that they were boasting about their skills, well, don't boast too loudly.
When the sun set I was able to sit atop the mountain/hill, and watch it go. It was a beautiful sight, and with the warm weather I was able to watch it sink in comfort.
As it got darker and the lights were the only guides left people started to head in. I didn't. I was able to get clean runs to the bottom with no one in my path. I was able to ski smoothly in a tight and ridiculously fast slalom from top to bottom, again, and again, and again.
It was getting time to go, so I made one last run down to the lodge. I returned my standard issue gear and headed inside. There was a live musician in the bar and I sat to join my comrades. We hopped back on the bus and with limited issues from the Parisians we made it back to UNBSJ.
Chilli.
3 Cappuccinos.
Home.
Sleep...
p.s. I do think I might file a formal complaint against the Parisian students though. I bet their school back home would be very interested to know how they treat the Canadians.
p.p.s. The French students are delightful.
