There is nothing to fear but fear itself...and skiing.

Today I went skiing for the first time in my life. And as I sit here in the condo at the Sunday River Ski Resort in Newry, ME, I am slightly concerned that my fingertips will never experience blood flow ever again. But that's okay, since I am currently watching my precious Brett Favre warm that Vikings bench better than no other man in NFL history. I consider this a marvelous ending to a slightly less-than-marvelous day. Here's the scoop:
After a whopping five hours of sleep last night (something I haven't experienced since high school) I woke this morning to cold winds and a two hour drive to the ski resort. Upon our arrival, I pulled my yard sale skis from the trunk of our trusty old red Suburban and the helpful employee kindly informed me that those skis "simply wouldn't do." Apparently, I would have been able to tape a twenty dollar bill to the skis, prop them in a corner, and not have to worry about anyone else breathing on them. But since today was the first day I actually held real skis in my hands, I can't blame anyone but myself for owning inadequate skis. 
I (well, my mother) rented my proper equipment and I immediately decided to hit the slopes. For those of you who know me, you would know that I'm fairly athletic. I ran all throughout high school and ran a marathon in October. Since then, I have been keeping in shape by running occasionally, doing yoga, attending kickboxing class, and dancing in my weekly Zumba session. So skiing should be no problem, right? 
I was wrong. Never have I failed so miserably at anything in my entire life. I made it on the ski lift successfully, but immediately wiped out upon my detachment from the seat. (While skiing today, the Hoekstra family (the other siblings included) have managed to require termination of the Number 2 ski lift four times. I'm convinced that's a record.) So, I was able to get back on my feet and begin my descent from the mountain top at a very fast, uncontrollable, extremely-terrifying-for-a-first-timer pace. I screamed for a good thirty seconds and then crashed beautifully into the fresh white snow, with poles and skis flying in four different directions. As I sat for at least 10 minutes trying to figure out how to get the skis back on, I watched multiple people fly past me, including snowboarders, parents carrying kids, and my favorite: toddler skiing classes with children between three and five years old, neatly decorated with flowery snowsuits and Dora the Explorer and Spongebob skis, following single file behind their instructor (who, I might mention was skiing BACKWARDS), going very, very fast down the exact slope I, a 17 year old athlete, was struggling with. As four year old after four year old passed me with their 3 foot skis, I was tempted to simply build a snowman and pray that children and other skiers would crash into it. I was convinced I would have to live on that slope the rest of my life, since there was no way I was going to ski the rest of the way down and live to tell about it.
So I didn't ski down. I walked. Sideways. With my skis on (I had managed to get them back on after the crash, and then couldn't figure out how to get them back off), for half a mile. An hour later I emerged at the bottom of the slope, convinced that because I didn't ski out of the womb in my birthday suit like all other Mainers, I would never be able to attempt a slope again. I immediately complained to my mother, who signed me up for afternoon Ski School. 
Ski School was an immediate confidence booster. My class had six people in it, five of whom were full grown adults that looked even more ridiculous than I did. My instructor went to the beginning of skiing basics, explaining how to put on and take off our skis, and eventually working up to turning and stopping. Thank God for Marilyn, my skiing instructor from heaven.
When I got back to the condo after my afternoon class, I convinced my brother (who is four years younger than me) to take me back on the "big slope" I had tried that morning. This time it only took me 10 minutes to get down, and after another five rounds I felt like a pro. And now as I sit here, watching the Vikings vs. Eagles game, I can say that everything is going to be okay because, 1) I am still alive and unbroken; 2) I can feel my fingertips again; 3) we have two more days to ski; and 4) Brett Favre just looked at the sideline camera, and being the loving 17 year old I am, I am convinced that he was meaning to look straight at me. 
Until next time,
Gabbie

A Shocking Realization

Today I realized something very important. In just nine days I will leave for the first leg of my ultimate expedition: skiing.  I've never been skiing. I don't even like playing in the snow. But, I realize that in my quest to become a true New Englander, I must learn to ski. Here are some other habits that must be formed before one is deemed worthy of a New England (especially Portland) title:

-You MUST walk out in front of every car you see driving down the road, even if you don't plan on crossing the road. It keeps the drivers alert and gives the pedestrian an adrenaline rush.

-Dunkin' Donuts is a religion which holds the faith of 95% of New Englanders. Dunkin' lovers are very dedicated, with millions of followers flocking to worship in temples every morning on their way to work. In fact, there are 13 DD temples within a five mile radius of my house.

-Driving more than 1.5 miles to attain any life necessities is absurd, especially if you live within city limits. 

-Your children actually walk to school, even if they live a mile away.

-It is a sin to order seafood anywhere except the East Coast.

-The New England Patriots, the Boston Celtics, and the Red Sox are all claimed by Mainers. So, if you wear a Yankees hat downtown, there's a good chance you might not make it home alive. 

I can safely say that I've adopted most of these practices except the first one. I especially refrain when I see a Toyota Prius coming down the road (just in case).

Although I leave in two weeks for the first five parts of my journey (skiing, Times Square, Amsterdam, Germany, and Costa Rica), I have still done virtually nothing regarding my Amtrak expedition. So, I am requesting your help. I will stop at the following cities in this order:

-Chicago

-St. Paul/Minneapolis

-West Glacier, MT

-Seattle

-Portland, OR

-Eugene, OR

-Redding, CA

-Sacramento

-Salt Lake City

-Denver

-Omaha

-Osceola, IA

-Galesburg, IL

-Albuquerque

-Los Angeles

-Tuscon

-Houston

-New Orleans

I have some activities planned for the majority of the cities, but if anyone has any suggestions of inexpensive (or free) things to do or places to stay in any of these locations, let me know! I basically have Chicago covered, as well as Sacramento, Omaha, Osceola, Houston, and New Orleans, but I'll take any suggestions!