Skiing along the top of Norm's nose on a midweek powderday two Aprils ago. There is noone else on the mountain.
I'm cruising along, sudently I'm ass over teakettle and landing on the top of the teakettle hard. I stop sliding, and feel an incredible need to vomit. As I roll over so as to not vomit on myself, I feel one of my skis start to slide away the leash having broken. I try to grab it but fail as the ski slips out of my grip while I continue to try to avoid vomiting. I wait for what feel like 10 minutes for my stomach to settle down. I can see the trail left behind by my ski. I start to walk down following it. The trail makes a smooth right hand curve and a horrid realization strikes me. The ski is now tracking straight for the top of the 15 foot embankment above the unloading zone of a lift. This realization is my biggest "oh, shit" momemnt. That ski would have been airborne at a high rate of speed as it passed through the unloading area. Only once have I felt as much relief (on skis) as when I found the ski in the last possible treewell above the unloading area.
That other occasion of relief was hearing an "I"m Ok", from DJSapp after he slid out of sight from me right above a fucking cliff.
Damit, bitch (DJSapp) if you ever scare me as badly as you did then again, I will kill you my fucking self.
"if the city is visibly one of humankind's greatest achievements, its uncontrolled evolution also can lead to desecration of both nature and the human spirit."
-- Melvin G. Marcus 1979
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