Wednesday on the way home from church I was reminded just how much I hate gondolas. I don't really remember what brought them to my mind, but I totally hate them. Oh, I don't mean the boat gondolas like in Venice, I mean the stupid ski-lift type ones that go up the sides of steep mountains.

So we're in China. Let me preface this with saying that up to that point, we weren't too impressed with the quality of construction over there. (For instance, when we tried to buy a fan for our bedroom the sales lady had to test all the fans to make that the one we bought actually worked.)

Anyway, we're at Snow-Cap Mountain. We went there with a bunch of our students for the weekend and right before we were going to head home, we were scheduled to take gondolas up the mountain to the top.

Yay. I just love heights.

We had already spent 45 minutes in an 8-person gondola the day before to get halfway up the mountain. It really stunk because people kept moving and shaking the gondola. Then I'd get really scared. It wasn't pretty.

So there we are, getting ready to get in the gondola. It's cold and raining outside, I think the sky is just as sad about me having to get in the rickey gondola as I am. Joey and I stand there, in our bright red plastic ponchos, and I'm trying to be brave. I can't let our students know just how badly I do NOT want to do this. The gondola swings around on its axis and we hop in.

I watch the nice, safe muddy ground slip away as we're dragged up into the air on a bouncy cable. The enclosed gondola doesn't do much to keep out the rain. It's cold, wet and bouncy. Some idiot up the cable thinks it's funny to bounce the car. I'm sitting there, stiff as a board. Joey is trying to come up with ways to distract me. None of them are working.

An hour later, we finally see an enclosure up ahead. I know that this only means we have to switch gondolas, but at least it's terra firma! Five minutes later, we're in a colder, wetter, shakier gondola, going up a steeper part of the mountain.

It's so misty outside that we can't see any further than 100 feet or so. Joey's dreadfully disappointed, but I'm pleased as punch. I don't want to know how high up we are.

After 45 more minutes, we're at the top. We have to hoof it 1/2 a mile or so up some wooden stairs (extremely slippery because of the rain and fog) to get to the top. It was entirely anticlimactic, too, becuase of the fog. We couldn't see anything.

And then...we went back down.

That's why I hate gondolas. I told Joey I was never, ever in my entire life getting on another gondola, even if it meant missing out on something really cool. Never again. Oh, I forgot to say the word "telemarketer"; so now I've said it. (I gotta say it every time, you know.)