It was a cold day in November, and it had snowed the night before. My brother and I were bored, trying to see if there was a single show on TV at that moment. “Do you guys want to go skiing?” my father asked. My brother Austin and I exclaimed “Yeah!” in unison. So we packed up and headed off. I enjoyed the view from out the back window; none of the trees had begun to lose any leaves and they created a rainbow of orange and red across the hills we passed. “This is beautiful,” I thought.
We stopped at a gas station shortly after to get gas and snacks. My dad gave us three dollars each and said, “Go buy a snack for each of you, and remember to bring back change.” We went inside. “I’m getting chips,” said Austin. I got a cookie. We both brought back change, just as promised. Soon we were at Bromley Mountain. The mountain loomed overhead. I could hear people yelling as they zoomed down the mountain. But some part of me was nervous. For one, I was not very good at skiing. Two, I hated going on ski lifts due to my fear of heights. It was a one-way situation, really. I had to do it, or my dad would’ve wasted money. So I mustered my courage and followed my brother inside.
The building was hot from the heaters. Crowds of people sat and ate lunch or waited for equipment. After we got our skis, my father and I headed towards a smaller slope while Austin went to a larger one. I went down my slope with ease, so we moved on. This time, I had to go on a ski lift. It wasn’t that bad. I went down this slope easily too. “I think you’re ready for a hard one,” said my father. I protested, but we went anyway.
The ski lift was nerve-wracking for me. But when we went up, I looked behind me and saw a beautiful view of the mountains of Vermont. “Wow!” I exclaimed. It was breathtaking! When we got off, we went down a hard slope. And boy, it was hard. “You can do it,” my dad reassured me. So I went as he followed. I fell over a few times, but I got back up. Soon, we located a deck on the side of the slope and stopped to regain our energy.
After we were ready, I was the first to head down the slope. It became quite narrow, so I had to go slower. I went faster after I was ready, but suddenly the path turned into a small area between the edges of the hill. I had to make it! I went as fast as I could and passed it perfectly.
Soon, I had done all the hard slopes. I was getting the hang of it! Afterwards, my companions congratulated me and we got Oreo Brownies at the gas station. Then we went home and were greeted by my dog Maui. She came up and barked happily, as if to say “Good job!” My mother was inside, making spaghetti. We all had a great dinner, and Maui got her food too. The lesson of my memoir is to never give up!