The first half of my childhood, I lived in California. It never snowed. One time it hailed – my brother and I were so excited, but my mother insisted that we bundle up in winter clothing first. It was something like what the little brother in “A Christmas Story” suffered.
And of course, by the time my mother finally let us run out into the cold, the hail had melted.
So when my family moved to Massachusetts, my brother and I took to snow sports like nothing else. We had weekly skating lessons at the town ice arena, and on the weekends we skated on the pond down the street. We built armies of snowmen. We had snowball fights every snow day. We took ski lessons at Nashoba Valley, learning to snowplow/pizza our way down the bunny hill.
I had a lot of trouble deciding what my beat should be for Reinventing the News, exploring everything from the fight over casinos in Massachusetts to current rulings of the Supreme Court. What drew me to skiing, though, is that it’s something I really love.
I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this beat, but I hope it’ll make my love of the sport grow. I’ve skied at Wachusett, took a ski weekend up to Sunday River with friends three years ago, went with my family out to Colorado in high school. It’s worth the bruises from tumbles on patches of ice, the burn in your knees after a stretch of moguls, the nosebleeds that strike at high altitudes.
I guess I’ll see where it goes.