He had spent the day trying to create some space for himself on the slopes, trying to have some time to himself on this mountain. It had been snowing all day and fresh snow was everywhere.
It was high up in the back bowls of Steamboat that he thought was an obvious place to start. Instead, he had a bunch of extreme skiers hooting and hollering and driving him to another area.
It was high up in the back bowls of Steamboat that he thought was an obvious place to start. Instead, he had a bunch of extreme skiers hooting and hollering and driving him to another area.
Traversing across the trails on catwalks found him at an unfamiliar lift. He took it and found that this lift was used mostly by the ski patrol as a base of operations.
Exiting the lift, he immediately skied into the pine trees and stopped by some large rocks. Skis off and feet up, he relaxed until the last of the patrol headed down to make their rounds searching for stranded skiers.
Exiting the lift, he immediately skied into the pine trees and stopped by some large rocks. Skis off and feet up, he relaxed until the last of the patrol headed down to make their rounds searching for stranded skiers.
The daylight was low, the lifts had stopped, and the snow picked up considerably. Now was his time. He began working his way down the front face of the mountain and realized how the visibility was very limited. The faster he skied the less he could see.
As he squinted through his goggles he began to hear the faint sound of screaming. No, it was not screaming, but rather cheering. Yeah, he was in the Olympics, and the run was lined with crowds cheering enthusiastically for him to win the race. And he was, in his mind of course. But he will always remember the illusion, and the amazing power of the moment being played out. Fun yes, but eerily real for him that day.
He still stays aware for those moments, and they will appear now and then.
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