Last weekend on Saturday I partook in another wild adventure on the mountain. It was an alright day despite the conditions of fog and damp snow which combined with the frigid air and made for less than favorable visual ability to see obstacles. Now, not only was there this impairment but along with that I had just recently acquired a helmet and was feeling somewhat competitive and reckless. Normally that would lead to me occasionally going off the slight bump in the trail and catching a few inches of "air". But since I was in a rather extreme mood set I decided "why not? Let's go down the steepest of hills and then sprinkle some huge ass pine trees across the slope and proceed to shred through the only powder I can find." Let me just clue you in now. The mountain I went to hadn't had snow for more than two weeks so the only powder was in the hardest parts to slip through trees and then plummet into the iced over grade below. So yes. I did just so and when I discovered fresh powder you bet I went through all that to make my own tracks. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid idiot. All would've went well but I met an acquaintance. Or rather an enemy. Or a frienemy. Yes a friendly enemy. Or so I thought. There was this stump. A little cut off tree sticking five inches out of the snow. But I wasn't gonna let that stop me. Oh no. I WAS going to go threw that powder. So I skied down into the chute and I got to the stump. I tried to avoid it but this space was quite restricted. So I used all my force and pulled my first ski up and over it. But when it came to the second one I was already sliding down the hill a bit and couldn't manage to get it over. It was stuck. To my ski. Oh dear. So I put more effort into it and when I finally pulled it over I admit that I did let out a little triumphant shriek. Don't you dare laugh. It was a pretty impressive accomplishment. Anyways, just as I was setting it back down I felt myself start to fall towards the snow. But no. Not towards the uphill. Oh no. I was heading down hill with my feet behind me. Now the story gets a little jumbled here but you can't blame me. Normally this would've resulted in a slight roll and I would eventually stop with snow up my coat and my face shoved into the white ground. But like I said earlier I was feeling confident. So we were on one of the steepest inclines on the mountain. In attempt to break my fall I let go of one pole but the ground was too far below me and before I knew it I was head over heals, rolling down the hill. Keep in mind that I also told you that there were a ridiculous amount of trees too. So I roll down about 30 meters and finally, a mist all the turning and frantic clawing at the snow i luckily crash into a group of trees. So right now I'm braced between two groups of trees. My head is being held by a small Christmas looking baby tree and one of my skis is lodged into a well of a bigger, thicker one.
And my body is spread the length of a huge icy chute. I just manage to get out , "get my pole! I dropped it up there" while I'm stunned and my friend is just chuckling at my enormous stupidity. But little did she know that this rodeo wasn't over. Oh no I still had more than half my ride left. So imagine my instant terror when I suddenly here a slight click. And the next thing I knew I was continuing my seemingly never ending tumble down that fricken mountain. As I later found out, my ski had been disconnected from my boot and it turns out that it was the only thing holding me from continuing my traumatizing trip down the mountain. As I was saying, I had once again gone head over heels but this time I was completely out of control. Basically it was like I was a ball rolling down a hill. I occasionally bounced and landed down with a thud but I was also like a cat falling through mid air after being thrown. Limbs were darting out everywhere in attempt to slow myself down before I hit a huge tree and most likely paralyzed myself for life. Or at least broke a couple bones. Somewhere along the way I managed to let go of my pole and dislocate my other ski. Finally I tumbled out of the chute and did some sort of karate roll onto my stomach where I proceeded to spread eagle and jam my arms and legs into the snow and skid to a stop. Literally two feet from a towering patch of burly pines with trunks the size of a huge pickup snow tire. Needless to say, I will not be returning to that run for a good while and after I had trekked back up the 100 meters I tumbled, with my friend who was frightened to death of what had just happened but had the sensibility to not baby me and make me ball. Whenever something like this happens I find that a good joke or two out of the situation always makes me feel better. I guess that's just because of my older sister that always made the scariest things seem ridiculous in order to comfort. But anyways, we retrieved my gear and were heading back down when my friend lost her grip in the snow and it was my own reversed position show to my terrifying experience. She must have tumbled 20 meters before she was out of my sight and managed to stop herself. I don't know if it was worse to be the one seeing white or watching and not being able to help. Just sitting and screaming my lungs out not being able to do anything and just hope she could find some way to slow down. Coming away from that was me needing quite a bit of music therapy and my friend being light hearted, even after her own terrifying fall. But. Now I will be more careful. Only took a near death experience... I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Ever. Well, I hope you learned something from this and be careful when participating in dangerous activities.
I have always said that skis are boards of death that are strapped on your feet. Point. But I'm glad you are okay. Dork.
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