Just on the border between California and Nevada, is the beautiful town of South Lake. I got to visit on my trip to California in January, and I even got to ski for the first time. However, I did come back a little different than before.
When we first came into town, we checked into our cabin and then went down to the "beach." You can see the mountains on all sides of the lake and dip your fingers into the cold water. That evening we unpacked at the cabin, took a look at the slopes and lifts, and walked over to Himmel Haus, a local German Restaurant, and had some amazing sausage and brussel sprouts.
The next day to was a bit rainy, so we stayed off the slopes and just toured the town. We went to the California/Nevada State Line, hiked up cave rock, grabbed some chili, and shopped the heavenly village (where I got to meet Betty Boop.) That night we got a pizza to-go from Base Camp Pizza Co. and took it to the cabin for dinner.
The next day we hit the slopes bright and early. This was my first time ever skiing, but my friend and her family have been going regularly since she was a kid. Her dad was on a ski team in high school and has been skiing since he was a kid too. So, he gave me some lessons and I went down the bunny slope a few times before taking a lift up to the top.
I started to get the hang of it and I ended up paralleling down the hill in a couple of runs. However, at one point I came to a weird stop, and my ski got caught on some ice, and either I crossed them, or I just got stuck weird and my skis ended up perpendicular to the mountain. Seemingly in slow motion, I lost my balance and did a somersault down the mountain. But, my skis stayed put and the binding didn't release. So, I felt something in my right knee pop.
I was half-laughing because I know I looked ridiculous, but the other half of me was trying to catch my breath through the pain. I tried to get up again, but I couldn't. My knee wouldn't hold my weight. I was lucky enough that this really nice man, who used to be ski patrol was behind me and stopped to try and help. My friend and her family caught up with me and the nice gentleman was able to flag a ski patrol down for help.
At this point, he was trying to see if I was fit to ski down, and I knew I wasn't. Yet, when he asked me my pain level, I think I only said 6. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Long story short, He got my leg wrapped up in cardboard and got a sled for me to lie in. He skied me about halfway down the mountain (which was actually pretty fun cause we were going really fast) and the other half I was hooked up to a snowmobile until we reached the lift. I was then transferred into a wheelchair and we all got a beautiful view on the gondola ride down.
So, shout out to Travis, the ski patrol, for all his help!
I was determined to not let this ruin our trip. So, I just iced my knee and out at the cabin with my friend's mom the rest of the day while she and her dad went back up the mountain. While I was resting, and before I could tell her myself, I get a call from my mom asking if I was taken down the mountain by ski patrol. Turns out, she just happened to be looking at the mountain cams at the time that I was being picked up and she saw someone in a red jacket in the part of the slopes that she knew I was on. She thought, "of course that's Amber..."
I continued icing my knee the rest of the day. I was "mobile" by the afternoon and moving around a bit, and they picked up a brace for me that night. The next day we packed up, got some breakfast and coffee, and headed out of town.
I eventually found out that I must have a very high pain tolerance because, after a few doctors visits and an MRI on my return to Texas, I found out that I shattered my ACL, sprained my MCL, tore large holes in both sides of my meniscus, which all caused intense bone bruising and bakers cysts.
When I walked into the doctor's office with just a brace on, he stared at me and said "how are you walking? How are you not screaming in pain?" He then took me in to show me the MRIs and told me that I needed surgery, which I had back in February. I am now approaching the start of month 6 of post-op recovery and am still working on rebuilding my strength.
So, go for the experience, stay for the snow, and never forget to dillydally! (Just remember to be safe)
- Amber
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