The Accident of 6 Years Ago
Everyone recalls a memory of a horrendous accident when they are kids, for me it is the sinful accident at a ski resort in Japan. The event happened six and a half years ago on March 22, 2007. I was only an “innocent” nine year old, attempting my first shot at skiing. Even today, I still remember the dreadful fall into cavernous sludge, being stuck there for what felt like ages, panicking and yelping for help. This trip was meant to be a holiday, but as it commenced, it turned out to be the opposite.
It was a frosty day with temperatures at below negative two Celsius at the resort. At first glance outside the window, the snow piled up on the edges of the balcony. The wind was ferocious, slamming into the windows. I woke up to the screaming winds, eagerly waiting to a new day even if the scene outside proved other than that. Nobody could have been more excited than me. This would be my first time skiing, having the fun of a lifetime, forgetting about unfinished projects and disastrous test scores. Life could only get better today, what could go wrong? The answer was everything.
As in every case I was optimistic; things would turn out to be catastrophic. Wretchedly, this issues still happens today; it is as though my mind was intricately programmed to detect wicked fortune and that would be by being optimistic. On the slopes of Japan, six years ago, this confirmed my assumption of these phenomena yet again,
On this freezing day, everything went downhill from the first step on the snow packed hill. From this delightful trudge, the caked surface filled me with joy. Nothing was more remarkable than this discovery since I received a video game console. As like any nine year ol...
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... try proved futile. The most memorable moment was skiing down the hill and crashing into an invincible rock. The cursed rock sent me hurling in the air with no control over my own myself. I miraculously tumbled into the caked surface again, but somehow the impact caused my whole body to smash into it instead of my legs being wedged like before.
As I ended the trip where everything was calamitous, I had learnt scores of depressing facts about skiing. The reality was skiing was a bore and the snow was hazardous. Lastly I knew that I would be no skier. It was strenuous to swallow, but I comprehended that from these errors. I could only be a professional skier by playing as a virtual person of myself in a videogame. From this dismal conclusion, it summed up the vacation that never was: gloomy with a sense of being a failure at everything I strived for.
A few winters ago, some friends invited my family and me to go snow skiing at Paoli Peaks, Indiana. I did not know how to snow ski, and I leaped at the thought of trying this new sport. On the first morning we entered the pro shop to rent all the gear and make decisions about whether or not to take lessons or go it alone. We decided to be adventurous and go it alone—no lessons. Kent and Celeste, the friends who invited us, knew how to ski and snowboard. He assured us that he could show us the basics, and we would be on our way down the slopes. All of us, after a few minutes learning how to wedge our skis started down the family trail. Although the family trail had smaller hills and appeared safe, to me it seemed way
He fig-ured that the normal half hour walk home might take as long as two hours in snow this deep. And then there was the wind and the cold to contend with. The wind was blowing across the river and up over the embankment making the snow it carried colder and wetter than the snow blanketing the ground. He would have to use every skill he’d learned, living in these hills, to complete the journey without getting lost, freezing to death, or at the very least ending up with a severe case of frostbite be-fore he made it back to Ruby.
“Throughout many years I have gained skill sets that got me to where I am today” Rob has looked upon his life as learning process. Rob explained that in his earlier years, during his quest for a sense of adventure and meaning in his life, he worked as a ski instructor in Park City, Utah. Rob’s day consisted of running the slopes as many times as he could while training people of all ages how to ski. At one point Rob set the world record for the downhill ski slalom during the time. However, the day after day tasks of skiing had gotten repetitive for Rob, as he began to lose insight on what he wanted to accomplish in life, and Rob knew he could not be a ski instructor forever. The countless days he had been sleeping in his car he started to think more and more about how Rob wanted to change his life. One day as he was looking upon the Wasatch Mountain Range contemplating life, Rob thought to himself “It’s time, It’s time to make a difference in my life, for better or for worse I need to change.” Rob felt like his adventure was just beginning with the many different challenges on the horizon that were about to face
Pieter and I were determined to become proficient water skiers, while Rhea had knee issues that limited her participation. The Gibson Girl only had a forty horsepower motor, which wasn’t sufficient power for faster skiing or for doing tricks like skiing barefoot. I remember using the Comfort for some of our skiing before Dad traded the outboard for a sixteen-foot Gar Wood Junior, which had an inboard motor and more power. Pieter and I spent hours practicing the basics of getting up efficiently, skiing across the wake and then jumping the wake. It wasn’t long before we developed a passion for mastering slalom skiing. I wanted to ski all the time during that period.
I glided downhill on my blue and white skis as the cold mountain air filled my lungs. I repeated the drill, and my success sparked some self-confidence. However, my dad fell on his butt and proceeded to blame his equipment for the incident. Despite his failure, my dad progressed with the rest of the group to a longer, steeper slope. In order to ascend this long slope, we hopped on a black conveyor belt which took us to the top. The slope was long enough for nearly two hundred feet skiing which is enough time for a couple minor turns and ample practice at
"Make sure you don't go too fast, and don't do too big of a fall!" he shrieks as rides. I'm scared to death but, my eyes somehow droop. Two weeks ago, I skied blue. The snow looked like a drop straight down, a death sentence. But when I skied down I had no fear, skiing was regular, and now I also know the hill did not go straight down, even if it seems to. As my eyes open again, I know that I can do it.
I was the first person to ski off of the chairlift that day; arriving at the summit of the Blackcomb Mountain, nestled in the heart of Whistler, Canada. It was the type of day when the clouds seemed to blanket the sky, leaving no clue that the sun, with its powerful light, even existed anymore. It was not snowing, but judging by the moist, musty, stale scent in the air, I realized it would be only a short time before the white flakes overtook the mountain. As I prepared myself to make the first run, I took a moment to appreciate my surroundings. Somehow things seemed much different up here. The wind, nonexistent at the bottom, began to gust. Its cold bite found my nose and froze my toes. Its quick and sudden swirling movement kicked loose snow into my face, forcing me to zip my jacket over my chin. It is strange how the gray clouds, which seemed so far above me at the bottom, really did not appear that high anymore. As I gazed out over the landscape, the city below seemed unrecognizable. The enormous buildings which I had driven past earlier looked like dollhouses a child migh...
We all hopped out of our car as quickly as possible, relieved that it had made it this far, but then soon hopped right back in because we hadn’t realized quite how chilly it would be at this altitude. Of course the reason we were here was to snow ski so we assumed it would be cold, we just momentarily forgot.
I remembered watching a professional skier on television. He reached top speeds of about 25 miles an hour and I told my dad that I was interested in skiing. Our family relatives decided that we were going to do for winter break and we decided to take a trip to Utah. It was around a 5 hour drive and we finally arrived at a city called, “Brian Head.” My dad learned that there was a nearby ski resort and all of my cousins wants to go skiing. Our parents took us to the ski resort and decided to put us all in ski school. I thought that it would be easy because the professional skier made it look easy. My arrogance was an obstruction to my skiing experience because I thought that I didn’t need the instructor’s help. I continually
The snow that was predicted to be several inches by the end of the weekend quickly piled up to around eight inches by that evening. At times, the snow was falling so heavily you could hardly see the streetlights that glistened like beacons in a sea of snow. With the landscape draped in white, the trees hangi...
A blast of adrenaline charges throughout my body as I experience the initial drop. My body's weight shifts mechanically, cutting the snow in a practiced rhythm. The trail curves abruptly and I advance toward a shaded region of the mountain. Suddenly, my legs chatter violently, scraping against the concealed ice patches that pepper the trail. After overcompensating from a nearly disastrous slip, balance fails and my knees buckle helplessly. In a storm of powder snow and ski equipment, body parts collide with nature. My left hand plows forcefully into ice, cracking painfully at the wrist. For an eternity of 30 seconds, my body somersaults downward, moguls of ice toy with my head and further agonize my broken wrist. Ultimately veering into underbrush and pine trees, my cheeks burn, my broken wrist surging with pain. Standing up confused, I attempt climbing the mountain but lose another 20 feet to the force of gravity.
The autumn passed by slowly, almost unnoticed dragging heavy and chilly days of coming winter. The year of 2012 was the year when the white queen crept sluggishly into our warm home, as her icy, freezing hands tightly embraced the Olovo, the small town in central Bosnia. While sitting in a warm home and looking out on the mist enveloping the town, my dad thought how it is a perfect time of a year to spend on the mountain and enjoy all the beauty the winter has to offer. Without any questions my brother and me started packing our ski equipment and clothes knowing that this is going to be one great weekend and a nice family reunion.
Challenge plays an essential role in defining a sport; it provides the individual with the feeling of achievement in success. Skiing poses challenge even in its simplest foundations. Skiing on a poor quality hill, with icy snow and poor upkeep can sometimes create more challenge than a well-groomed slope. Skiing in the backcountry away from lifts and other people in freshly fallen snow provides an opportunity for the best of skiers to test t...
Unsure of his exact location, cold and growing weary he started his tedious climb up what he thought was the northern side of the peak, he was unsure how he got to where he was, but his best guess was that when he was the origin of a small avalanche. His last memory before his startling awakening in his would be snowy grave was snowboarding. It had been just after lunch and he thought he would try some new terrain. He laced up his snowshoes, and proceeded to climb to the highest point of the mountain.
After three hours we arrived at our first break stop. We stopped at a section that was on top of the waterfall. The view was amazing and spectacular because we had never seen anything like this. As we continued our hike after several more break stops, and nine more hours of hiking, we finally arrived at the top of El Capitan. Once we got to the top the view was amazing. We could not imagine how beautiful it was up there on top of the world. After about half an hour we started heading back down, when all of a sudden out of no where I felt someone push me out of the way. A man that was in a hurry to get back down pushed me so hard, that I lost my balance and fell of a twenty foot cliff. At that moment in time I could see flashbacks of my life. After a couple seconds of falling I somehow landed between two rocks which shattered my right foot. After that happen every one that was there tried to get help but unfortunately cell phones do not work in Yosemite, but the man that pushed me over the cliff had a walky-talky and he called for help.