Descriptive Essay About Skiing

This was not my first time skiing. However, I was still a beginner. I still like to go with my dad. He was a big help to me in learning. Yes, I took lessons every time I went, although he was an equal help. One of the things he helped me with was how to use the ski poles.

Omg! I am going to have so much fun snowboarding! Today in my life I am at a super cool place. It’s in the UP and it’s called Ski Brule. It has all the snow hills you could possibly think about. I could never stop imagine me going down the hill and be so proud of me. But hopefully I don’t break any bones in my body. Because I still have basketball in the winter. But after I just took a soft energize nap. Then… We arrived. OM to the G! It was exactly what I imagined. The people gliding through the snow with their cool snowboards and their ski’s.

The cost of skiing, ski equipment, left tickets, traveling to the mountains, and staying at a resort it far too expensive for the majority of black Americans to attain. Skiing is an economic investment that many African Americans cannot invest in. Also, black people do not reside in the rural mountainous areas where skinning occurs, so they have no familiarity with a sport like skiing. A Canadian survey studied in 1995 revealed that skiing is passed on for generations and that longtime skiers were exposed to skiing as a child. The thing is that when there’s not a family history of participation in skiing the likelihood for most African Americans picking up skiing is very slim. Jennifer Lee explains how the everyday racism that is experienced by African Americans while they are alone or in small groups is the reason why they avoid to visit or be part of a white constructed environment. Having only 2% of blacks in the sport, is a major reason why they avoid the sport. If they don't feel comfortable rather discriminated, skiing is not a sport they will consider joining. Let us take it back to the 1950’s, African Americans and Jews were not allowed in restricted southern ski lodges and hotels, and still today blacks are not very welcomed in ski resorts. They are widely excluded from privileged spaces. Harrison states that if there were no socioeconomic barriers in sports, we

The best thing to ever happen to me was when my parents forced me to join the Loon Mountain X Team. I was an adolescent 8th grader living in the cozy coastal town of Cohasset Massachusetts, knowing that my time in New England, which began when I was three, would soon come to an end as a daunting move to Texas loomed overhead. I knew I wanted to make the most of my 8th grade year, but as the dead leaves dropped from the trees, the idea of my faraway move to Texas ripping me from my home, family, and friends whom I’ve known for the past ten years of my life, sent me into a depression during that fall. However, I still had something to look forward to, skiing. I had been skiing on and off since I was five, and for the past two years, my family

Despite enjoying the antics of the little ones, I couldn’t procrastinate much longer. It was time to face the music and meet my cross country ski instructor. I was surprised to feel nervous, after all how difficult could cross country skiing be? For years, I have avidly watched the Olympic Winter Games and the cross country athletes appear to circumnavigate the course without difficulty. Surely I would be able to kick, stride and glide with the best of them. My fearless instructor Bryon introduced himself to the group and welcomed us to our session. With a calm confidence he assured us that we would love our new sport and be tackling the trails in no time. Hesitantly, I followed Bryan and within seconds I was on the ground doing a fantastic Bambi impersonation. This was trickier than it

I now am able to say that I love skiing. My uncle and I buy season passes to Chestnut Mountain every year, and go nearly every weekend of what feels like an incredibly short ski season. Two years after my first day of skiing, my uncle got me into ski racing at Chestnut Mountain. It is an amateur league called Nastar. Nastar consists of a starting gate at the top, many racing gates in the middle that you have to ski around, and a finish line at the end. It is very exhilarating as you ski your fastest and brush the gates with your body as you ski down.You can even earn a small bronze, silver, or gold medal if you get a fast enough time. Overall, I am very proud that I was able to conquer Rookie’s Ridge on day 1, and can safely say that skiing is my favorite thing to do in the

In this advertisement, Whistler Blackcomb Ski Resort combines a thought-provoking rhetorical question with an image that evokes both adventure and tranquility in order to appeal to experienced skiers who feel that skiing is an important element of their identity and lifestyle.

Every year, my family goes skiing. Our favorite place, by far, is Telluride. The drive into town is windy, steep, and can get pretty scary. While snow pelts the windshield and the wind makes the car swerve slightly, one may wonder whether the journey into town is worth it. But it so is. I’ve never seen something so breathtaking as when we crossed over that final

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The athlete locks in his bindings on his Burton snowboard, adjusts his goggles, and peers down the mountain. He stares at the snow-covered trees, powdered slopes, and sapphire blue alpine lake in the distance. The young man remembers his skiing adventures through the trees as a small boy, rises to his feet, takes a deep breath and smiles. The crisp mountain air and the smell of pine trees fill his lungs as he glides down the blanket of snow on the groomed slopes of the mountain resort. The enjoyment of the sport of skiing and snowboarding, and the many other wonders of the Tahoe basin have been passed on to him from his family, and is like no other feeling in the world. Lake Tahoe is such a culturally and historically significant part of North

Skiing territory is divided into two equal-sized zones, to general bewilderment in no way connected to each other lifts. Ski isolation of Deer Valley, of course, the brand name of one of the most expensive resorts in the world, but globally it suffer from disunity ski areas as "rich" and "poor" (if there miraculously appear). The ski area of ​​Park City - the most universal ("for all"), ski area in Deer Valley, which is not allowed to snowboard - offers a perfectly prepared, short tiring hill, while the Canyons is more democratic and colorful in terms of the relief region: it is popular among ski-lovers, and among the riders of different levels of training. Dining facilities and lounges well spread in the area, and it’s really easy to reach any services in the slopes. Experienced medics and ski patrols going through ski parks preventing the accidents and helping skiers who got

It was a chilly Sunday afternoon with blue skies and all the makings for a good day of early season skiing on that fateful November afternoon. The day was winding down, the Broncos had just kicked off, and my friends and I had just leapt off the chairlift to embark on our last run of the day. All was well on the way down, a blur of orange jerseys rushing by as I sped down the mountain making the most of the last run of my day. Upon our final few turns of the afternoon, I found myself in a predicament that would later shape me into the person I am today.

Around seven years ago, my family and I would always go to Colorado. Most of the time we went with another family or we brought some of our friends, and that year we went with another family, the Egan’s. We were having a great time just like the multiple times before, and we were eating meals, playing ping pong, watching Forest Gump or Pokemon, and we skied. I had some experience skiing, but Aidan, my friend, had never really skied before.

I slowly crept around a corner engraved by the trail of smashed snow, getting ready for the huge drop. Of course, I made my uncle go first because like always, I am a scaredy cat. He softly drifted smoothly across the surface, spraying snow all around the backs of the skis. Turning around, asking for an applause, he smiled and chuckled like the hill was a breeze. My huge feet clomped loudly on the surface of the snow. I positioned myself forward and pushed off with my poles. The rushing wind paralyzed my face as I tried to focus on my path. The bushy trees zoomed past me, giving me this rush of adrenaline. I finally came to a halting stop right next to my uncle and waited for the others to join

Other than a few lessons I taught that year, the trip to Holiday Valley was my first time skiing from tearing my ACL. I tore it the year before, skiing down my home mountain, Hunt Hallow. Before tearing my ACL I had always been a cautious skier, I did not like going very fast, doing jumps nor going down difficult trails.