A little known fact you don’t know about me: I like to water ski.  In fact, back in the day I wasn’t too shabby at slalom skiing. There’s nothing quite like it. We had a favorite slalom ski–a coveted, classic, handmade, light and dark wood, striped Maharajah water ski. Boy was that baby a beaut. It carried some status. We were teens, what can I say, we had to get a Maharajah ski vest, yellow with black stripes, to go with the ski–to make the image look just right. I just priced new high performance Maharajah water skiis online. They run $1750- $2100 a pop. My water skiing days didn’t live on forever. A messed up foot after a bad break (unrelated) had its effect on my ability to go all out but it never stopped my enjoyment of the sport.

The joy is well remembered. The other day my dad mentioned our stunt with five skiers. He’s in his mid-eighties and those memories are still alive. We laughed and smiled. My dad was quite good as a slalom skier and he made it look easy. Yes, writing about slalom skiing takes me back. . .

To handle a slalom ski well and to make a large spray takes some skill. As a slalom skier, I learned to pull the rope taut, lean into the curve, then lay my body hard to the side down as close to the water as I could manage, I would really lean into it to make the spray and then I’d cut back toward the boat’s wake as I came out of the curve to dart across the wake to do it all over again. The spray’s length and arc was commiserate with the boat’s speed, my depth of leaning and “push” downward with my left foot in the rear “steering” position on the slalom ski, and then the resistance as I positioned the ski line. It was a clever dance. A thrill came with a well-executed spray, the higher the better. I wasn’t as proficient and fancy as some of the male members of the family but I challenged myself to at least make a decent showing. Of course I had some pretty gnarly flops too. During one of my worst spills, my inner ear took in pressured water. It drained for a week and is still sensitive decades later. They say, no pain, no gain. So true!!!

There was the time five of us did a beach start together from behind my uncle’s boat, a white beast of a boat with red-trimmed interior seats. It had a hunky inboard Dodge Desoto engine that made a deep rumble you could hear clear across the lake. We five skiers were standing in a fan formation side-by-side in shallow water off a beach head. Each of us had one foot standing in shallow water with our other foot and its ski slightly above the water. We skiers positioned our ropes so the grip was held above our waists at almost chest high. My dad yelled “Hit it.” The ski boat headed straight out. In a few seconds the slack in the rope jerked tight. The boat lunged us forward as we clung to our ropes, our ski quickly slid into/above the water with just the right tension as we worked at placing our other foot behind the first while managing and then stabilizing the ski. Getting the ski under control happened in less than a quarter of a minute. That all five of us skiers made it without anyone taking a spill was a miracle in itself.  I must say it was cool touring the lake with the five of us skiing behind the boat and watching swimmers gawk at us from across the distance. Beach starting a slalom ski is crazy fun to do too.

YouTube Slalom Water Skiing demonstration.

Those were fun summer days. Living on a farm, we didn’t have much time for recreational activities. The whole family worked, and we worked a lot. But the summer camping and ski trips mixed it up and made the camping trips a great time for all of us. Our family of seven enjoyed being together. Usually our cousins went camping and boating with us. We had a ski boat and they had a ski boat. Double the fun. I miss it. I miss them. And I miss the boating.

Today, none of us have any boats. The old skis crisscross the rafters in my parents’ garage. Yet the memories live on. They are a gift my parents gave to us. We all loved being together and we all loved the camping piece. Whether singing around the campfire (my family loves to sing), tossing a football back and forth, telling scary stories in the tent at night or sleeping on a cot under the stars while counting the shooting stars, it all was a lively experience. We cousins liked to read so a variety of trade books got passed around. Louis L’amour was our all time favorite. His westerns went with us on every camping trip and were read several times over. Cards were played every night under lanterns set on picnic tables. The food tastes better when camping. There’s nothing quite like hot cocoa around the campfire unless its roasting marshmallows and making s’mores (or a breakfast of frying bacon, or pancakes, or. . .).

Now go make some memories and remember the good times.

*Photo courtesy of Instagram

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