A wild ride

I wish I had a picture of my stupid car this evening. Perhaps you can picture this in your mind:
I'm driving down the Pebble Creek road, and, having already stopped to help two different trucks in ditches, am definitely going as slow as possible. I put my car into first gear, and figure I can coast all the way down without having to brake or gas (both seem scar to me). It turns out, if you leave your car in first and never hit the gas, the engine dies.
So my engine died, putting my car into neutral, making it go pretty fast down the mountain with no control. So I decided to turn my key to start the car, and I hit the brake.
NEVER BRAKE ON ICE. It's a cardinal sin. My car slowly spun around until it was going backwards down the hill, gaining speed as it went. I freaked out and pulled my parking brake, which surprisingly, worked.
So there I was, 10:30 p.m., sitting in a backwards car on the ski area road. I decided I needed to go forwards, so I started my car, and let it slip until it was facing forward. It kept slipping, and went into the ditch.
It looked pretty spectacular. My back wheels weren't touching the ground. A fellow ski patroller coming down for the night stopped to help, but she is 8 months pregnant, and the two of us were definitely not going to be able to push the car out. Skiing pregnant is one thing. Trying to lift a car out of a ditch is something else.
She did have a big truck, though, and another person brought me a tow rope. So she pulled me out three times (the dang car just kept slipping back into the ditch), but finally, I was going down the mountain. I was already embarrassed, so I didn't care about the fact that I went no faster than 10 mph the rest of the way down, even though the road got much better near the bottom.
It was a wild ride, but wilder than my whole evening of skiing. I was going to head up tomorrow as well, but I think I'm going to stay home.