Ski splat
Me and Mrs Duck in the halcyon days before children went on a skiing holiday. Load of mates full board chalet with our own slave chalet girl. Lovely

Everyone else could ski really well and we had never been. So we learned the baby steps of skiing whilst 5 year old French kids zoomed and carved epic turns around us.

2 days in we could make our way to the top of the nursery slope without falling off the button lift and make our way slowly down like an old dear with a Zimmer frame crossing the nursing home tearoom (neither of us were natural skiers)

On the day in question it had snowed the night before. Not just a bit but a shit load and we found that it was easier to ski in freshly fallen snow. So we began to go down with a little more confidence. About half way down the nursery slope it went around a wall of snow in a gentle bend.

Mrs Duck, confidence to maximum, shot off down the slope at speeds only dreamed of the day before. At the bend she fucked up the turn and went sideways into the wall. As I said it had been snowing hard and it had drifted so the wall was covered in fluffy snow to a several feet deep. Mrs Duck embedded in deep and left a Wile E Coyote style outline in the wall. I fell over in a tangle of skis and poles because I was laughing so much.

Unfortunately after I had finished laughing and got to my feet I realised I'd done something to my knee and I couldn't bare any weight on it. Mrs duck was uninjured but decided she wasn't cut out for skiing.

We took our skis back to the hire shop and spent a very enjoyable holiday drinking alcohol laced coffee & hot chocolate high in the alps with fantastic views in freezing sunshine. Taking the cable car back down and joining in with the après-ski fun in the evening.
(sittingduck Attention seeking, bullshitting fuck-knuckle, Fri 29 Nov 2013, 9:46, Reply)