Freaky Skiing

Skiing yesterday allowed me a rather unique experience. This is because the young woman with whom I was skiing, got fearful at the top of a run and insisted upon removing her skis. She walked all the way down the hill. Backwards.
I am not even making this up.
No one has more compassion on a fearful skier than I do. I am the biggest baby you ever saw on skis. I like to feel totally safe and in control at all times. Much like how I approach real life, come to think of it.
But, nothing prepared me for this experience.
Part of my frusteration was that I could do nothing to help. It was an easy run. She never once hit a speed that was faster than I could crawl without arms and legs. I was cheering her on.....right by her side....encouraging. But, for some reason known only to her, she decided that she was going to walk. This was very likely the faster option.
My children, who reached the bottom of the run over an hour before we did, had allerted the ski patrol. Which was, no doubt, the sane thing to do. They had no idea what could be taking us so, so, so long.
She took mincing steps, backwards, down the very center of the traffic flow. While dragging her skis and poles. I skied about ten feet at a time, then waited for her to catch up, then skiied, then waited. All while turning to ice due to inactivity.
I would have cried if I were not concerned about my eyes freezing shut.
Instead I sighed frequently, and laughed manically from time to time.
"Are you mad at me?" She asked several times.
"Um...yeah. I think I am. But I'll get over it"

We actually had loads of fun skiing. Mostly. I was on the hill for seven hours, which was good excersise for the most part.
Today I am sore. And I think my sense of humor has returned.