Mini Ha Ha Lives On: Wydaho

OK so you can stop replaying it NOW

That was an hour into day 1 and it is ironic that Gary, our (according to P my) personal ski instructor, said that we should be searching for the sweet spot, because on occasions I ended up looking like a sherbert fountain being submerged n'all in four foot of snow….

It is hard not to regret the choice of black trousers.

As I had so accurately predicted going skiing in the Tetons which is Native American Indian for breast …and if you’ll excuse the vernacular (as I would imagine it is not pc to say French anymore) I did end up looking like a Tittie skiing down a Tittie.

I do believe that it would have been easier to start this lark at 6 rather than 46.

File size prevents me from showing the remaining days so you will just have to believe that I progressed. But it was v difficult sometimes with these views:

And I have heard so much about après ski..

It was fun listening to the skiing equivalent of the big fish story but do you remember the Hilda Baker “French Crowowowowowowown” minstrel of the summer…well I think her two cousins Mini and Tonka are torturing the residents of Grand Targhee with their bluegrass rendition of U2 songs, while simultaneously preventing the bear and moose population from raiding the restaurant bins and also launching an anti clean shaven campaign against Gillette.

So it was back to the little house on the frozen wastes for a spot of home made après ski:

And yes that is a highly practical (yet ecologically irresponsible) heated drive.

I believe for men this is the winter ski lodge equivalent of there’s a BBQ

so I am suddenly transformed into Marco Pierre White x 4

Ok, I admit the culinary highlight for me was being able to cook two whole packets of bacon on a hotplate at once! Topped off by the fact that there was a tap above the cooker with which to fill pans so you didn’t have to struggle across from one of the other two sinks. But primarily as birthday girl I necessarily had to sit back along with Gail and let the boys have a go though:

She probably has a cracked bone in her elbow and so played lady of the manor for 2 days.

The first night I made it to 9 pm with blanket.

The second night I made it to 11 but there was a bit of horsing around:

The third day…I had to concentrate all day. Well in conditions like this a polar explorer needs to keep her wits about her:

At one point it looked like the journey was sending me mad…everything went like this!

Then this.

Gary had warned us there would be days when you couldn’t tell land from sky nor sky from land

But ultimately I earned my "snowdreds"

And what else did I learn?

1 I can still touch the floor with my hands while my legs are trapped straight in ski boots but my thigh muscles will audibly scream to the rest of the universe

2 If you foolishly decided not to jump off the ski lift at the right time due to some misconceived idea that it is wrong to wipe out a 4 year old on skis even though she is more competent than you…

- unlike in the video you will not get the gymnastic gold

- you will ping through the magic wire which will

- draw humiliating attention to you by:

- triggering a prison camp escape siren
- grinding the ski lift to a juddering halt

- you will have your skis removed by some superior, bronzed, colgate smiling 16 year old

- you will be helped to jump the 2 and half feet (half your body length) to the ground

- some arse will shout "Whey to go!" which will echo down the valley making the native forefathers snigger in their grave.

3 The Magnificent Seven and their ski gear is better and legal outside of the van