Is there a sane reason for an avid beach lover to buckle up heavy boots, snap into state of the art skis, and slide down a gorgeous snow covered Utah mountain? I pack my sweaters, long underwear, and courage, for a ski adventure in the "Greatest Snow on Earth."

Snowbird Ski Resort

"Snowbird is truly a skiers mountain," raves Jared Ishkanian, Public Relations Director. "We get 500+ inches of legendary powder every year. We have a 125 passenger Aerial Tram, a luxurious rooftop hot tub, pool, and Spa at Cliff Resort, and award winning terrain. We want your ski vacation to be epic."

Lucky me, I'm skiing today with Jared and his colleague Jessica Kunzer, Ski Utah's Director of Communications. Both are gorgeous, fun loving, experienced skiers.

"I haven't been on skis in ten years," I moan. " What if I fall off the chair lift in heap? What if I can't get down the mountain? Yikesorama."

Smiles from both my expert powder hounds. "No worries, Sharon," Jessica assures me. "You'll do just fine." Skiing since age four all over America, racing on ski teams, modeling in ski fashion shows…what could Jessica know about middle-aged angst on the slopes?

"Ok, Sharon here's a tip. Plant your pole firmly, and make a commitment to turn in front of it. Also, don't scare yourself by looking all the way down the mountain. Just plant your pole, turn, and glide down, turn by turn."

Glide, she says. My first run is pitiful. I'm so frightened, I slip down sidewise. No turns. Just frozen in fear.

"Well, I do think you can try a few slow wide turns," Jessica calls out, trying to encourage me.

On the next chairlift, Jessica offers more ski therapy.

"Try to relax. Have fun with it. You're not gonna get hurt, I promise. You're in great shape."

At the top of Lupine Look, I look for inspiration from beautiful peaks, sparkling snow, and magical clouds. Breathing deeply, I point my skis down the hill and plant my pole.

Turn. Pole. Turn. Pole. Turn. I whisper my mantra, "Commit." (Should I be committed to an insane asylum for being here?")

"Beautiful!" Jessica calls out.

I carve giant S curves. The mountain embraces my courage. I forget to be afraid.

"Way to go, Sharon," says Jessica. "I knew you could do it. Be proud!"

I smile and ski faster.

Alta Ski Area

Day two. Our group is skiing Alta, one of America's oldest ski areas, opened in 1938. Known for long wide-open runs, knock your socks off mountain views, and emerald forests home to moose, elk, porcupines, ermine and bobcats, this is a favorite

place to ski without snowboarders.

In the warm sunshine, we're cozy in cotton sweaters under our parkas. I'm feeling way more confidant today. My group swishes past, I wave them on.

"I'm stopping to fix my boots, see you at the bottom," I call out.

Outside "Collins Grill," I grab a chair and settle into an admiration of peaks and clouds, wondering is that a bobcat lurking in the pines?

My reverie turns into half an hour and now I'm late for lunch, so I ski down to meet my friends at Collins chairlift. No one I know is anywhere in sight. Lots of happy powder hounds mill around, some wearing spring ski bikinis. Roasting in my black pants and heavy brown parka, I'm severely overdressed. Where the heck are we all meeting for lunch? Oh no. I forget names, forget my name. Oh no. I'm lost at Alta, one of America's favorite ski resorts. Oh no.

"Can I help you?" asks a handsome green-eyed gentleman in a red plaid shirt. "My name is Oh No. You look a bit lost, but of course no one gets lost at Alta, you're close to everything."

He points up hill, there's Alta Lodge, where I now remember we're all meeting for lunch. Oh No graciously helps me take the rope tow up, then escorts me into the Lodge dining room.

His card says "Onno Wieringa, President & General Manager, Alta Ski Area." The Alta Prez and I have a delightful conversation about his career and family. Turns out he's been at Alta over 37 years and loves it "because it's so beautiful, we have great ski terrain, incredible amounts of snow, and warm winters."

His deep green eyes emanate a contentment from a life lived outdoors in a stunning place with family and friends. So many folks return to ski Alta year after year, Onno and his staff consider them family as well. He also co-owns Glacier Raft Company in Glacier Park Montana, an incredible place that Warren and I visited years ago. His kids Onno Shay and Siri are river raft guides. "Why don't you come out this summer with your husband and enjoy Alta in summer, with all the great hiking, flowers and festivals?" Onno suggests.

Now that's an invitation Warren and I wouldn't say "Oh no" to.

Relax and Recharge

Two days of skiing at Alta and Snowbird and I'm ready for pampering. At our gorgeous Cliff Lodge, the Spa offers massages, facials, and a recharging eucalyptus steam bath. I love the outdoor rooftop Jacuzzi and heated pool with peaceful mountain views. Rejuvenated, we dress for dinner at the Lodge Bistro and share a festive evening of delicious lamb chops, seared tuna, and sticky toffee pudding. Later in the week, we'll try the famous "Fireside Dining" in Deer Valley, where guests cruise vast food stations sampling melted raclette, venison stew, root vegetable soup, fresh breads, salads, and a divine dessert buffet.

Deer Valley Resort

In Tim Burton's madcap "Alice in Wonderland,' the Mad Hatter sadly informs Alice: "You used to be much muchier. You've lost much of your muchness."

Through countless challenges, Alice develops her courage, and much emboldened, slays the dreaded Jabberwocky monster.

This morning I get the chance to discover my own "muchness." After a monster breakfast of French toast, blueberries, decadent pastries, and cappuccino, we're invited to ski with Heidi Volker, a former 12- year member of the U.S. Ski Team. She competed in three Olympics, 1985-1997, and won third place in the Giant Slalom event at the U.S. Nationals in 1997. Today she is Deer Valley Resort's Ambassador of Skiing and a much beloved ski celebrity. On the chairlift Heidi is all smiles, chatting about her five-day a week ski/exercise regimen, and her sons Lucas and Stephan, already expert ski racers.

We hop off at a called "Success," and Heidi invites our group to enjoy a few "fun fast runs."

I hesitate. Who am I to even consider skiing with an Olympic champion? I've haven't skied since I lived in New Mexico ten years ago. In two days here in Utah's "Greatest Snow on Earth," I've progressed quickly with expert lessons and encouragement from my teachers, but hey it's only been two days. I should probably just watch the master at her craft.

But my skis are pointed down hill.

"Ready?" Heidi smiles.

Like a Kentucky Derby racehorse out of the gate, the Olympian bolts off the edge. Sharon, feeling much muchier than she did yesterday, or even the day before, is right on Heidi's powder packed heels. Schussing and smiling.

Story and Photos, Sharon Spence Lieb

C2010