Skiing, part two.

Three twenty-five, at the top of Tremblant, our bus at the bottom of the north side, and nothing to take us there but black diamonds. Looking back now, I realize that only I had any inkling of what was to come, for only I was both an advanced skier and a beginner snowboarder. Amanda cannot be held responsible for this adventure, nor can her friend. If I was less of an idiot, I would have told them to switch again. I would have told Amanda to take the chair down. I might even have proposed an exchange myself, offered my friend my skis. Yet as Amanda, on a snowboard for the first time in her life, slid over to the top of the nearest expert trail, the only phrase I saw fit to utter was, 'We're fucking screwed.'


The first part of the trail was the steepest part, and I don't know how they did it.
In fact, we didn't really hit the wall until about two-thirds of the way there, when Amanda had a breakdown.

'I can't do it.' She was sobbing. 'There's no one here to help us. They're gonna leave without us.'

Who could blame her? She was panicking. Her feet strapped to a board, she had practically no control over her own fate. The ski lift we had taken up had ground to a halt, and we were, it was becoming evident, rather late. We had seen no one else since the top of the mountain.

'They won't. Absolutely not. And if they did, my parents would come pick us up.' Of course, I wasn't so sure about any of this. I can't imagine my mother being too pleased to drive to Tremblant and back in order to pick up her vagrant] daughter. 'Come on. I'll help you down.' I stretched out my pole to her, but she didn't move.

'Do it. Do it.'

My Ben Stiller impression could not fail me. Her hand swung out and tightened. Slowly, gently, I moved forward, immensely thankful for my newfound control of my speed.

Much of the remainder of the mountain was descended in this fashion. We stopped. We started. She fell. I pulled her behind me. And then, as suddenly as the clouds parting after an epic rainstorm, the mountain fell away, and I saw paradise before us. The ski chalet could not have shone with more radiance had it been fashioned of pure gold.

'We're there,' I breathed. 'We made it. Alex! Alex!'

For a moment, for eternity, the three of us stood on the slope, gazing down at the bus, at the four or five red-suited figures far below. And, like a starving man who feels that food has never tasted so wonderful, I thought to myself that not once in my life had I been happier to see a parking lot.

We came down slowly. When we were at the bottom, we took off our skis, our snowboards, and began the trek to the parking lot -- elated, exhausted, and a little terrified of what we might find when we climbed onto the bus. I am certain that I do not exaggerate when I say that bonds were formed by that descent, where bonds did not already exist. Was it the stupidest thing I ever did? Probably not, but it's somewhere up there. Do I regret it? Not for a moment, but I'm glad we came through.

Tim glanced at us as we passed him. Winked.

'In trouble already, I see.'