How do I become a "teapot" in the mountains?

How do I become a "teapot" in the mountains? "I must. Have nowhere to retreat - it was my last thought before I picked up the lift. And with a cry, I rushed up - to a height of 200 meters. I was going to my first in my life down in the mountains.

Bird's-eye view of our little girlish tricks seem disgusting stupid. Yes, you can trust any number of retail therapy, suggest best friend does not call the fellow playing the vain and surprise at the former odnogruppnitsey: "How have you been a cosmetologist for three months?" Sometimes it saves us. From the fact that the priest was no longer fit into the narrow favorite trousers. From the fact that he still did not understand what you're clever and sexy. And from that, admit it, itself something on SPA-procedures visited the first time this year. But few if any cockroaches sit you and in my head. I found a panacea - for ski trails.

Nobody ever thought of hoist on the top of the Christmas tree fire extinguisher. So I submit to the mountain, to the same ski, just not possible. Back in school, with the approach of physical education classes in the fresh winter air, I began to crack his head, leg pain, and suddenly attacked the critical days. And then suddenly and friends have gathered at the ski resort to see how the break neck athletes. Do not keep me from it all!

Watch interesting, but still a bit boring. Professional skiing and snowboarding so easily performed spectacular somersaults and friezes, which seemed very simple. I drank very hot tea and also went on the road - only tyubingovuyu. Tubing - this is such a "cheesecake", which, as a child on a sledge, adult uncles and aunts are flying down the mountain. I joined this lazy extremals. It was found that fly cheesecake fun and not scary. The main thing - to observe a few simple rules.
First, decide at least once in his life to paint eyelashes (if you have not super-snegostoykaya ink). Second, hold tight, a bit higher up his legs and not open his mouth during the descent (until train to screech with clenched teeth). Do you find yourself in the heart of the snow swirl! And third, rolled down, quickly jump up and run away from the road - think it over what happened later. Otherwise you will print out of his stupor stranger tubing, rolled down behind.

    Contraindications: If you completely forgotten what the "press", he reminds you of yourself in the morning with pain in the stretched muscles. And if you weigh more than eighty kege, you can fly with a speed that, to put it mildly, do not enjoy the ride. In the morning it hurts all.

For an hour I managed to leave the mountains seven times. And, breathless with joy and snow stuck to his face, I realized that doing better. A small dose of adrenaline prompted the body to require supplements. I decided to ski.

To conquer the mountain, I went with friends. Among them was even one girl, was already putting on ski. Honestly, without her I would not have coped with these buckles and straps on heavy boots. New shoes nailed to the ground, and so wanted the flight.
- Another fly! - Promised a friend, smiling mysteriously.
What she meant, and how it ended - learn more.

Thus, the ski trails. Ahead - the first in the life of the descent. He will never be forgotten, as the first parachute jump, the first kiss and first husband.

I threw her skis on their fragile shoulders, and overcoming the Ural drifts, went to lift. On the way met his longtime (and very cute) friend. And I did not know he was the instructor. How lucky! I almost wrote "I was jumping for joy." In ski boots is simply impossible.

Sergey - a professional outfit and with a tanned face (the sun in the mountains even then!) - Appeared before me as a god of Olympus (well, at least, all of the Ural Mountains). He called me with him, promised to teach skating. Unfortunately, the day Sergei worked on a small slope. My friends have decided to enjoy life to the maximum. Separated from the group (which, quite forgotten, was my young man) was somehow not following the rules.

And now, propped up by a lift, we rush upstairs. To the right of me - an experienced skier-girlfriend. Listening to her advice, I try to put your skis in and, in spite of her protests, quietly, but emphatically swear. We are getting higher and higher, higher and higher ...

- Natasha, I'm just can not do anything - coming to, I say. - Maybe I'll start with a small height?
- Calm down! - Command Nat. - Now up to the seventh level get there, you moved away from the lift and sharply to the left. Then the seventh - it is for professionals.

As I later learned, on the seventh is only the eighth! Not high I pick up something for the first time? How I can jump back to the side and fall. At the same time one of my ski flies away. Wear it again on an inclined track - a real torment. But as it turned out they were only flowers.

From Natasha's lesson, I remember only two words: "ladder" and "plows". When my instructor was off down, I was left alone with his fear of heights and exaggerated self-preservation instinct. Skiing I obviously did not obey. No matter how I tried to brake, just rushing forward, picking up more speed. From zigzags out some fall.

I sat in the snow in indescribable posture, and sped past me extremals professionals. Evening trail and stood before me in all its glory. All around were snow drifts and snow. Along the route lit garland lights, and I was overwhelmed Pre-New Year mood. In the distance for the light haze of fog could be seen, certainly fabulous, woods. In general, I had time to admire the scenery.

And then I helped her up snowboarder. He put me on my feet, and I flopped down again a few meters. She has found his will in a fist, put together his legs and stood up. Overcame a couple of meters. I was clumsy, cuttlefish, I was close to hysteria. I sat in a snowbank, unable to rise. And my smoothie, not noticing me, swept past. But it's not the point. Why he made himself at home for half an hour in this extreme environment, and I'm not! Super bent, I managed to pull off his skis. From the mountain I went on foot.

Again and again I climbed the mountain. I tried. I even got a little bit. At this time the favorite was near, all the time helping me, pulled out when I did turned off the highway, drove away from me other annoying teachers. I understood everything: he quickly learned to ski in the mountains, because he is strong and brave. He is not afraid to fall. And I'm weak and probably a little stupid. And so I kept falling. And he falls with me. And we are kissing, lying on the snow. And envy us pass by extremals professionals.

Finally (or unfortunately - I still have not decided), the time of hire of equipment is over. My dear took my wacky skiing, has helped to remove thoroughly wet mittens and heavy boots. While the men were cleaning our snow-covered vehicle, I saw in the salon hot tea from a thermos. And thought, what a happy I am!

Ask: where do ski? Because it is a real romantic adventures, or, if you want extreme romanticism. I just fell in love again.