I think I read somewhere that you are at your most vulnerable when you think you are invincible.
March 2, 2013 ( my actual birthday ! ) at 2.10 pm Colorado Mountain Time on the slopes of Breckenridge ski resort I discovered the above saying to have an element of truth about it.
I have been skiing for 38 years and have been fortunate enough to ski all manner of terrain across 4 continents, 7 different countries and over 50 different resorts. So skiing the Centennial run at Beckenridge (single black diamond in difficulty) didn't seem any different and certainly no harder than many of the runs that I have done at resorts before or out of helicopters. Perhaps therein lay the trap. The Centennial run is steep but without moguls. The snow cover was good, the visibility average and with lunch just having been consumed my batteries were charged. It seemed like the ideal run to do at speed with big carving turns.
When I had rented my skis I had engaged in conversation with the technician about the DIN settings on my bindings which determine how easy or hard it would be for the bindings to release your boots in case of a fall. With my height, weight, age and ski level programmed into his computer it told him that 10 was the setting. I queried it stating that I had always skied on 9. The higher the number the more pressure is required to release your boot. He replied that as the computer had programmed the setting to be that high he was obliged to follow it. This discussion became relevant later.
3 - 4 high speed turns all felt good. There were few people on the slope and the terrain whilst steep was relatively smooth. As I entered into a right hand turn the edge of my downhill ski cut into the slope as it should giving me the ability to make the turn. At this point my weight distribution was almost all on the downhill ski. My uphill ski should merely be a non contributing partner at this stage. On this occasion however something went awry.
My up hill ski caught an edge. One of its edges dug into a bump or light covering of snow and gripped it for a nano second. This was all that was needed to send my right ski out of control and me catapulting forward. At the speed I was travelling there was not time to correct myself as is usually the case and I was flung forward at some pace head first into the slope.
All I recall is tumbling at speed, the world a blur of snow and blackness. As I fell I knew it was a bad fall because my skis had not released and instead my legs were being pulled every but which way at angles that your legs are not designed to be pulled out. It must've looked bad because no sooner had I stopped tumbling than 2-3 skiers skied over asking if I wanted ski rescue to be called. My goggles were brushed up against my forehead full of snow and my helmet was pushed back towards the top of my head. My helmet. I thanked myself for having worn one.
Standing up right and pulling my skis around to face their normal direction my right knee was suddenly engulfed in pain and trembling. I gingerly put some weight on it which steadied the trembling but as I sought to move my weight inwards the knee gave way and the pain intensified tenfold. Clearly not all was as it should be. Ed, my skiing partner and one of Colorado's supremely gifted lawyers, wisely suggested we move to a flatter piece of terrain in order for me to collect myself and also to see if indeed I did need help. His words were wise.
Declining further offers of help I cleared my goggles and took Ed's advice and skied to a flatter place of the slope. My right leg could take no weight and now I knew I was in trouble. But I be damned if I was going to be carried off the mountain in a ''blood bucket''. That would almost be 'un-Australian' like!
So together Ed and I skied slowly to the base of the mountain where Ed kindly took my skis and I hobbled back to the apartment, showered and then headed to the medical centre with Kathryn who had just returned from a wonderful days snow shoeing through the local woods.
I was wary of how expensive my visit would be given the horror stories you hear about medical costs in the USA. 2 hours later and a mere USD$450 lighter in the pocket I was armed with pain killers, a knee brace, some x-rays, a pair of crutches and a prognosis. 3rd degree tear of the right knee ACL and also the MCL. Also known as the Anterior Cruciate and and the Medial Ligament.
Having had knee reconstruction on my left knee following a high speed waterskiing accident in 1989 I know the road ahead will be an interesting one however at least it will give me something to blog
about !
Home to London for me and down the inevitable path of specialists and surgery and rehab.
I am glad I live in a house with 47 steps. Not.
Stay tuned.
