Word Stoke (By Me, for Class ski related)
“Jesus Christ this is deep,” I think to myself as I scream in pleasure. The front of my body cold, 32°, covered in white cold smoke. My breath timed to the rhythm of my turns, gulp air, snow in my face, gulf air snow in my face. That feeling of falling meets me at every turn. Leaning back, carving, milking, using every foot of slope. at the bottom point strait speed, wind, lips and face chapping, legs burning smile glued to my face.
Sitting on a chairlift gives me time to catch my breath and talk to my friends. Sometimes its nothing more then simple conversation about girls, sometimes we discuss physics, others we just sit in awe of the mountains, silent. This time up I smile after boarding, “Aren’t you glad I dragged you here?” I ask John.
“Yeah,” was his response. John is a good friend I’ve known him since first grade and we go way back, a black beard and shoulder length hair he looks like a dirty hippy. Today I had called him at about eleven and he complained about how he didn’t have money, or how the snow wouldn’t be good eventually however he relented and drove up to Alpenglow.
Alpenglow is where I found my love of the mountains. A few simple lifts, a laid back crew, and cheep lift tickets. A short hike from the top of the chair brings me to the top of Rendezvous peak affording me 360° views of giant U’s, ridges lining the valleys once carved out by a mile of ice. Two thousand feet below me was the valley floor, ten minutes of skiing would bring me ten hours from civilization.
Standing up and skiing down the ramp we began another run. Ten minutes of double poling with the speed and eagerness of a world cup cross country skier I once again reached the promised land. A steep gully where the wind deposited snow in massive quantities. Sometimes most of the mountain would be bare, but this spot would be filled with a glorious white room of snow.
Dropping in there is silence except my rapidly beating heart, all thoughts are cleared from my head except for making that next turn. I probably yell in joy as I ski as the snow caress's me and obstructs my view, the words and thoughts are lost in the speed though. Life at this point is perfect, it is was to live for, those perfect moments.
The mountains will always be within my view, no matter where my life takes me. When I feel down when life treats me bad, I look out my window, look at a picture and I am transported back to those perfect moments I find in the mountains. All the pain and anguish melts away all those who have wronged me are forgiven, and life once again is perfect.
Its not that I suck at spelling, its that I just don't care
Bookmarks