One thing I’ve learned from several years of skiing at Breckenwolf every Wednesday night with a bunch of middle aged dudes who may or may not be taking nips of whiskey between runs, is that it’s really hard to wrestle with skis on. It’s awkward, like you have these giant feet that get in the way of your otherwise normal sized body. Mountain top wrestling is a key component to Whiskey Wednesday, as is the end of the night, anything goes “Chinese Downhill Race” (copyright Hot Dog…The Movie, 1984). It’s typically an every-man-for-himself affair, where the entire group races to the bottom, skiing as fast as they can while also trying to knock each other down. Like roller derby, but on skis, and with whiskey.
This week, we changed up the format by adding a “mixed doubles” approach, where teams of two raced down the mountain taking different routes. One team member takes the center line, the other takes the far right and the team with the highest placed combined finish takes gold. After five years of racing the exact same way week after week, this new format proved to be just the thing to spice up Whisky Wednesday. I can see why bored married couples start swinging.
There was still plenty of carnage and high-speed hijinks, but you now had a partner dynamic to consider. Sadly, while my partner did quite well and finished second overall, I ate shit half way down the mountain. It was a spectacular crash. I was in a full tuck on the straight of way, going roughly 78 miles per hour, and hit a patch of sticky snow. It was like Velcro. My skis began to wobble and I couldn’t hold it together. You know that clip of Lindsey Vonn rag-dolling at the Olympics a few years ago, where she slid half way down the mountain on her back? It was just like that. The crash was Olympic in its awesomeness. I have road rash on my back from sliding across the ice, er, “packed powder.”
My individual input into the race may have been lacking, but the mixed doubles format was money. So, we carried it throughout the night, playing doubles ping pong, and singing Kenny Rogers/Dolly Parton duets in the car. Kidding. Or am I?
Oh, and one of the Whiskey Wednesday members wore a speed racing suit. Not on the mountain to ski, but in the bar for ping pong. Because Whiskey Wednesday.
