Beaumont Ski Jump
It was a beautiful summer day and my friends and I were looking forward to a fun afternoon of water skiing while I was home on leave from the Army. We had a powerful boat to pull us down the river, but our skis left a little to be desired. One was a slalom ski — a forerunner of the wakeboard — the other a regular ski for the right foot, with its left-foot match missing. I could not get up with the slalom ski alone, so I put on the other mismatched ski. Now I had two skis on but one was wide and short and the other narrow and about a foot longer. I was able to get up with the two skis and was quite proud of myself, since I had been skiing only a few times in my life.
As I was being towed behind the boat, we passed a ski jump owned by the local ski club. My friends in the boat started pressuring me to go over the ramp. The driver circled the ramp several times while those in the boat continued yelling for me to try the jump. I thought, ‘Yeah, right, I barely know how to ski! I’m sure not going over a ski ramp!’ They continued pressuring me, adding a few words that implied that maybe I was afraid. They had that part right! The thought of making that jump scared me to death. However, before long another thought crossed my mind—it would be really cool to be the only one brave enough to go over the jump. When I yelled back to take me toward the jump, a cheer went up from my friends in the boat.
Nearing the ramp, I felt almost confident about what I was about to do. I would be a hero of sorts to the “wimps” in the boat for accomplishing such a feat. I was ready as the ramp approached. But the second I hit the ramp I was in trouble. Jump skis don’t have rudders on the bottom, but the two mismatched ones I was wearing did. And yet, with all the scraping and shaking that occurred as the skis touched the jump, I managed to stay upright. I actually cleared the end of the ramp still standing, and while high in the air I felt like I had just won a world championship. The cheers from the boat echoed across the river as gravity began pulling me toward the water. I was so excited about clearing the end of the ramp, though, that I forgot to concentrate on landing.
Later, I learned how essential it is to keep your skis pointed slightly upward when preparing to land. Mine, according to those in the boat, were pointed directly down. Apparently, the longer ski hit the water first jerking me hard to one side. Since both skis were pointed toward the water, my forward motion stopped almost immediately. When I hit the water it was like hitting a wall. I hurt all over! Of course, my friends thought it was hilarious, once they determined I wasn’t dead. I was red from head to foot on one side of my body. Having the longer ski twist my body to one side when landing probably saved me from losing my eyesight that day. I was very lucky to not be seriously hurt.
Lessons Learned:
• People often care more about their fun than your safety or well being
• True friends never encourage you to put yourself in danger
• Seldom are we “pressured” to do things that are in our good interest
• Stand up to pressure; don’t let others determine your actions
