Ski Poem By Jason Williammee

The air was crisp and cool all of the thoughts of the past season rush to my head. We started towards the mountain. It was early season not many people where lined up in the lift line. We quickly got to the front, our skis felt restricting when we walked. We sprung to the blue line and sat down on the lift. We looked down and all I heard was loud screeches coming from the skiers on the mountain. The top was near and the lift stopped, we forgot that the lift stops almost every time. We got off of the lift and I turned to the side and there was a spot of ice and I almost fell because of it. Everyone tightened their boots and it was a race down to the first break point. We were off and we slipped and slide everywhere the first one down, my dad, second, Sarah and third was me I knew I had lost so right at the end I spun in circles. The whole day consisted of the same things, I cant wait for good snow.