Trembling, I took off my skies, put them under my butt like sled runners and gingerly rowed myself down the slope, much to the amusement of the proficient skiers blasting up rooster tails as they whooshed past me.

So to read the bunny hill I was about to tackle in Jilin's provincial capital Changchun was a "battle zone" was, well, concerning.

Indeed, casualties were everywhere.

I left the lodge to find amateurs wiping out left and right, forward and backward, flinging flurries of slush into the air as they tumbled.

But to my surprise, I didn't stumble once in the hour on Changchun's slopes.

Instead, I felt comfortable going full speed - again, on the bunny hill - while watching others biff around me. And I didn't want to retreat from the "battle zone" when my hour was up.

However, dusk was starting to ink out the last rays of the sun.

So, I dropped off my gear and left Jinyue Lake National Forest Park, triumphant in the "battle".

The real victory was not only that I hadn't tumbled but also that I'd discovered a new love of skiing.

I hope to return to Changchun's "snow battle zones" armed with this new passion and conquer a downhill fight on higher ground, beyond the bunny hill.