n the early-morning light of my hotel room, I quiet- ly pull my ski sock over the scars on my right leg. The top of my sock hits just below a two-inch-long incision across my kneecap. Inside my leg, a titanium rod rests, hidden to


everyone—even the TSA officers operating the metal detector at the airport. Today marks my first time back on the snow after a ski accident nine months ago, and I’m nervous about everything. The accident— sustained while heli-skiing, wasn’t overly dra- matic—but the lasting impression is fresh in my mind. While the break has healed, I’m not sure I have completely. I have a new fear of falling and hurting myself again. “Mom, are you ready to ski?” asks my 6-year- old daughter, who has not only started her day while I was lost in the fog of snowy memories, but also dressed herself in her ski clothes. Today is her first day on skis. She’s signed up for a les- son at Snowbasin, and I’m struggling to put my personal worries aside so she won’t know that while I’m concerned about my first day back on skis, I am more than excited for her to start this new winter chapter in her life. I hadn’t learned to ski as a child, but my husband and I want to open the world wide for our new daughter—adopted just months ago


54 skiutah.com | 2016–17


through the foster care system. She and I met when I was still on crutches. For her to have a strong foundation in a variety of sports so that she can later choose which ones she truly loves will mean that she may be less likely to quit out of frustration if she isn't as good as her friends. And if later an injury or bad experience makes her question whether she should try again, I hope she won’t hesitate to get back out there. A little like what I'm trying to do right now. We had convinced ourselves that our trav- el-heavy lifestyle would make it too difficult to incorporate children, and we dismissed the possibility early on. My work as a freelance journalist focusing on travel and adventure took me on countless assignments each year, and our ownership of a kayak and stand-up paddling company had Doug working on the beach and traveling for occasional kayak excursions. While our beachy, outdoor life might have been ideal for kids, our habit of constantly moving about wasn’t optimal for stability. But then I watched my friends with similar


professions. Many of them found a way to include children, anyway. It may not have been easy, and it was often messy, but I started to re- alize that it wasn’t an all-or-nothing proposition. Doug and I never prioritized having a bio baby.


We had frequently discussed that were we to have children, we’d likely adopt—considering the number of kids without parents in the world.


Seeing friends adopt children through the foster care system gave us the inspiration to change our minds about our child-free life. And here she is. Our child. “I’m going to fall a million times!” Veya joyfully claims on the short drive from downtown Ogden to Snowbasin. She’s bundled in a hot pink powder suit, orange hand-me-down jacket, and petal pink beanie—looking like an animated Skittle. I’m hopeful that her apparent ease with falling means that the first few times won’t freak her out and cause her to sit indoors with crayons and cookies the rest of the ski day. I’ve heard a few of her kindergarten classmates claim fear of simple things, to fit in with a societal belief that little girls are more fragile than boys—that being afraid makes them cute. While it’s nearly impossible to tear her fasci- nation away from Disney princesses, Veya’s free time is filled with outdoor activities: kayaking, biking, hiking, surfing…and now, skiing. Her role models are female kayak guides, the surfer girls whom we see every day in Half Moon Bay, near our home in California. Soon, I hope, she’ll add skiers to the list, further illustrating that girls can do anything they want—and not have to pretend to be delicate flowers in order to get attention. At Snowbasin, we navigate the process of


gear rental and school sign-ups. Boots are guided over ankles. Mittens are put on, taken


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