POWder

My ski buddy, Mike, and I got fresh tracks on Olympic Lady at Squaw Valley last Sunday after getting on the hill early that morning. Eventually we headed over to the Broken Arrow chair to check out Silverado, but no dice. They were still exploding dynamite charges on that part of the mountain to quell any chances of avalanche. So Mike and I skied up to Headwall and then Granite Chief before breaking for an early lunch.

After lunch, we decided to give Silverado another try. Sure enough, it just opened. We glided down on the fresh powder, although the snow was heavier now due to the abundant sunshine. We took another run and went back up the chair lift. As we made our third run down Silverado, I suggested to Mike that he build up some speed heading down this particular run because the mountain flattened out at the bottom, and without the proper speed, we'd have to pole through the flats. I went first.

True to my advice, I built up plenty of speed. But the heavy powder was skied-up, and it was a pretty rough ride. As I approached the bottom of the slope, I was flying. And due to the rough snow, I was having a hard time maintaining control. I could see my worst nightmare developing right before my eyes -- skiing at top speed and catching an edge. Except I wasn't envisioning it, it was happening.

As I lost my balance, I felt my left ski release as I fell forward. I seemed to levitate there for a second or two. "So far, so good," I thought to myself. Then BLAAAAMMM!!! POWW!!!

As I fell, I somehow got into cartwheel formation, but landed on my head and neck, then I slammed on my right knee. This could be ugly, I thought, as I lay in the snow taking inventory. Then I paused a few seconds to listen to the yells coming from the chair lift. Clearly my fall impressed those who witnessed it.

Mike skied up with my left ski and asked if I was okay. I was, but I could tell this would be a long recovery.

Three days and three prescriptions later, I write this blog.

Wow, it could be worse.