Vintage Pic of the Day

Here is my dad skiing, circa 1945, in his native Norway. My dad left Norway for the United States in the mid-60s. My father says that in Norway it is tradition that as soon as toddlers can walk, they begin ski lessons. When I visited my family in 1989, I was 14 and just learning to ski. All the Norwegian kids aged 5 and up were skiing circles around me and even laughing at the 'big American kid' was falling on her bum all day. I eventually got the hang of it but I just wished I learned sooner.

Nevertheless, skiing is in my blood. Every ski season, I visit Colorado for a couple of weeks to ski and take in nature. I hope to ski until my body falls apart!

After all these years skiing, I have good days and bad days on the slopes. I may not ever be good as my dad but I do okay. I enjoy it and that is all that matters. You know, of all the instructors I ever had, the best teacher out of all of them, has been Dad.

One year I was in Colorado and I found myself having a hard time get used to my new shaped skis. As soon as I got back to the condo, I called my dad and he gave me some great advice. The next day I went out and practiced like he told me and I did so much better.

Thanks for everything, Daddy!