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What You Think About When You are Hurtling Down an Icy Slope Headfirst.
Besides oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
I was picking up speed. I could only see sky but I know there must be trees and rocks in front of me. I tried to grab onto the side of the mountain but it was all ice. This was going to be bad. I used to work at a head-injury rehabilitation hospital so I knew what a hell that could be. Shoganai the Japanese say, there was nothing to be done. I was going down the hill until I hit something. I put my arms over my head and waited for impact.
The day had started out pretty well. We met up late the previous night in Osaka. Spirits were high. We piled our ski gear and bags into Yuka’s car, grabbed some conbini beers and we were off.
Unlike poor Yuka, Will and I could get a few hours of sleep once we all calmed down. It was a long drive. Once we were in the mountains, it got worse. A long snake of a traffic jam. But Yuka fought through it and we got to the Dyanland Ski resort before it opened in the morning.
We had our gear on in nothing flat and were first in line on the lift. We cruised down a little road that connected to another lift that went to the summit. We were basking in the crisp morning sunlight. We looked to the right. A steep bank of moguls covered in virgin powder and no one in…
