Narrative Writing For School, Need Suggestions?

So I have to write a personal narrative for school that should be 500-700 words. I wrote mine, but it’s actually like 1110 words, so my teacher told me to try to cut it down to about 800 or 900. I am having trouble deleting parts, so I need suggestion on how to shorten it or improve it. Thanks so much! And please don’t leave comments like “Who would read all this crap?!” because I really need the feedback. Well, here it is:
Snow, Slopes, and Skis
I imagined the snow drifting off my skis as I dangled my legs from the ski lift, 8000 feet high in the Sierra Nevada mountains. It was a perfect morning in Lake Tahoe. The sun shone brightly, a light wind caressed my face, and perfect, powdery snow was falling; it was like the mountain was calling to me to get myself over there and zip down the slopes. Winter break had recently begun and enjoying the snow and activities Lake Tahoe had to offer was an annual ritual every winter. Every year until now, it was just my family: my older brother, my mom, my dad, and me. But, this year I held much higher expectations about the amount of fun we were going to have, because three of my cousins and their families were coming along with us. On the fun quotient, the more the merrier! There were ten of us altogether, five kids and five adults. The kids included my 15 year old brother, Jake, my 9 year old energetic cousin, Emily, her jovial 7 year old sister, Jane, my 9 year old, hilarious cousin, Landon, and me. After waking up groggily and putting on 4 layers of thermals, we rushed through a toasty breakfast, lesson sign-ups, and equipment rentals. While listening to our instructor, our thoughts varied from “Oh shoot! Where’d my DS go?” to “Hmm…I wonder if I’ll be able to drink hot chocolate this year without burning my tongue…” to “I need to tell him to put on sunscreen… ” I was all fired up from a mix of hot chocolate, Belgian waffles, and just pure excitement to get on the slopes.
Our instructor, a professional skier from Australia, warmly introduced himself as Jacob. He described a general idea of what our day was going to be like, and we were off. Trudging through the snow, all six of us hopped into the gondola with our skis and poles and traveled up the mountain. Since most of us had skied before, Jacob led us through one warm-up slope and from then on, we skied mostly intermediate runs, with a few advanced, steeper slopes here and there.
“So where are you all from?” Jacob queried as we made our way through the lengthy line to get on the ski lift. The queue was packed with all sorts of people. I glanced around, taking in all the scenery, the bright colors of resorts and restaurants, and the specks on the mountain which appeared to be people as they advanced down the slopes. I picked up a map of the runs on the mountain. I recognized a few of them, but many were new to me.
“Sacramento. Not too far away,” I said.
“Bay area,” Jane and Emily said in unison.
“Los Angeles!” Landon said, squinting at the sun reflecting off the white snow.
We cautiously seated ourselves on the six-person ski lift. After a serene, ten minute ride to the summit, I braced myself for the landing and smoothly got off the lift.
“Wow. What a view, guys!” Jake exclaimed.
The stunning view of Lake Tahoe couldn’t have been appreciated from a better place than the top of this mountain at the Northstar Resort. A crystal-clear body of water reflected the snow-covered mountains, sprinkled with evergreen trees. After a moment of awe, Jacob directed us to a slope called Magic Moguls, my personal favorite. It was a series of moguls – small hills, bumps, and dips which you could jump over. I squealed in delight as I glided over the mounds and then playfully ran into Jane. We both slid and fell, but it was a light fall, so I carefully stood up, making sure I was parallel to the bottom of the run – staying parallel ensures you won’t slide down. Helping Janu up, we both skied down the remaining portion of the slope and joined the rest of our group.
Checking his watch, Jacob told us that it was almost noon. We took the chairlift back up to the summit and made our way across the snow to a large, crowded restaurant. People were packed into it, but the warmth of the building felt good. After a quick lunch of burgers and salad, we headed towards the slope labeled East Ridge, also known as the east side of the mountain. It was a long run, all the way down the mountain, with slopes off the side you could ski down. I saw a run named Delight – it was an advanced slope and seemed really steep. I peered down to survey the run. It was…well, it looked just a little bit away from being completely vertical. I had only skied one advanced slope in my life, and this one looked much harder.
“You want to do this one, Alyssa?” Jacob asked with a grin.
“Oh! Uh…” I stammered. Many people were skiing down it, making it look easier. Nevertheless, I still was a bit unsure.
“Yeah! Let