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“It’s okay to be nervous. Everyone feels like an uncoordinated idiot the first time they get on skis,” Ansley consoles.
“No one here is an idiot. Tell you what. If you seven feel confident enough, you go ahead and go up in groups of two. I’ll stay here with Sara-Beth and Leona. I’ll teach them how to snowplow, and we’ll do a few wide turns around the training hill until they’re completely comfortable.”
Sara-Beth smiles.
Then, Maxi speaks up. “I’ll stay back too. I think I’ve got the basics, but I’d rather have you guide me down than these cult members.” She gestures toward the others.
“I’ll stay too,” Anna says.
“Chickens,” Erin teases, and then she heads in the direction of the lift.
Jena, Ansley, Taeli, and Brandee follow her.
Maxi grins at me. “I was just tired of Erin’s griping.”
“Me too. Yeesh,” Anna says as she links arms with Leona.
“Now, maybe we can have some fun,” Maxi says as she takes Sara-Beth by the elbow.
I give them a grateful smile, and the five of us find a nice, wide, flat space in the training park and snowplow.
We laugh every time Leona yells, “Wee.”
The sheer joy they have from simply going around in circles together is infectious.
By the time the other girls have made a few reps down the beginners slope, they’re all ready to call it a day.
“Zoey, do you have time to have lunch with us?” Sara-Beth asks as we return their rentals.
I look at the clock on the wall above the counter. I have two hours before my next lesson.
“I could grab a quick bite, as long as it’s not too far.”
“Not far at all. We want to try the Cantina in the hotel,” Ansley says.
“In that case, I’m definitely in. You guys are gonna love Leeza and her husband, Jose. Their food is the best.”
Zoey
We make our way to the front of the hotel, pass the porte cochere, and head through the rotating glass door.
The lobby is gorgeous. It screams contemporary alpine resort from the moment you step foot inside.
You’re greeted by a hand-carved mahogany reception desk with a spacious lobby lounge to the right, which has a double-sided stone fireplace that separates the small bar from the waiting area, dotted with comfortable chairs and sofas.
It features rich, warm colors and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that match the reception desk and is decorated with paintings and pottery from local Smoky Mountain artists.
I lead the girls to the set of elevators to the left.
Weekend guests are in line, waiting to check in with their luggage.
“What floor is the Cantina on?” Erin asks.
“Seven,” I reply.
“We should take the stairs,” Anna suggests as she points to the marble staircase that leads up from behind the registration counter.
We decide to give it a try.
