2nd-5th Grade
Personal narrative

The Steep Run

By
Christian C.
March 2018
5th Grade
A skier on a snowy mountain bank with snow-covered trees in the background.

I looked down the hill terrified because it was so steep.  It seemed like it was vertical.  And I started to face my terror.  

My family and I were at Crested Butte skiing on a sunny but cold day, and my dad saw a “good” run to try.

Me and my mom stood at the top of the mountain and were nervous at first but that was looking at the run.

“We are doing this,” my dad said with uncertainty.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked. 

I noticed how my dad said that, and I think this run might be a BAD IDEA because he is always so determined and ready.

Then I went down first and took a break one 8th of the way, because it was so icy, steep, and I needed to catch my breath.  I was looking up the mountain, and I saw my mom coming down the hill nervously, falling  near me trying to stop.  My mom isn’t the biggest fan of moguls, but my dad and I love them, in this case we were hating them.  As my dad came down stopping near us, slipping on ice, I fell.   I was only a quarter of the way and mad at my dad for taking us down the mogley run. Getting up I put on my ski and headed to the bottom, nearly falling. My mom crashed, and her ski tumbled to me, and I almost tripped over it.   Getting to my mom was hard in moguls, but I eventually got up to her, helping her up.  Then she told me calmly to head to the end of the run and wait for them. It surprised me by her calmness because she fell twice, and she is not a big fan of moguls. Waiting for them took a long time, and they were a disaster going down the run, but I still wanted them to make it.

I sat on the snow for a while until my parents were at the bottom.  Then, my mom went to the base of the hill, so she could rest.  Finished, she was done skiing, and she was tired of falling, wanting to forget what happened.  So me and my dad could ski together until 2:00pm.  On a chair lift I saw a map and found the run and said, “Dad! you took us down a EX!”

In conclusion, now I don’t trust my dad as much as I used to. I remember when I was younger at Keystone, and my dad wanted to ski a different run than we were doing, and my parents started arguing about which run to do.  Then, they asked me for my opinion, and I choose my dad’s run because I trusted him.  After the skiing accident at Crested Butte, I am more careful about my choices.

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