RightTurnOnBlack Chapter3: HotDog [Part 3/4] (mm/f, rom, fp, or, an, (voy))
	
The way Seventh Avenue begins from that area looks like a cliff as you
approach it, but it is really not steep at all.  It is just the way
the edge looks as you near it.  Seventh Avenue, also called Broadway,
runs from where we had gotten off the lift down to the top of Park and
Madison Avenues on the east side of the mountain.  It is a crossing
trail, to get from one side of the mountain to the other.  Leaving
Seventh Avenue to the left and towards the base lodge were several
interesting trails, such as Eisenhower and Bleeker Street.  From the
summit, black diamond and double diamond trails empty into Seventh
Avenue, starting with the Cliff, which empties at the lift's end,
followed by Hellgate and others, until the bottom of K27 meets it 1500
feet later.  At the bottom of K27 a double chair leaves immediately
for the summit, so that people skiing the expert trails from the
summit do not need to waste time with novice trails at the bottom just
to get on a longer lift.  After that lift, Seventh Avenue leads to an
area of intermediate and novice trails, including the mentioned Mossy
Brook.
	Perhaps an explanation of the symbols would be appropriate here.  A
green circle designates the easiest trails, for novice or beginner. 
Usually they are slow zones, so the better skiers generally avoid
them.  A blue square stands for an intermediate trail, which can range
from boring to moderately fun.  Black diamond trails are where the
real skiing takes place, and these runs are always steep, and
challenging.  Some diamond trails have moguls, which are hard snow
bumps, scattered across them.  Others are just slick and steep.
	The hardest trails are the double diamonds, and they are very steep,
35 degrees inclination or more.  That doesn't sound steep, but believe
me, when you are standing at the top of K27 looking down, it is
fucking steep!  The numbers are deceiving: Thirty-five degrees would
be like putting one end of your bed onto a four-foot high dresser. 
Add a few fridge-sized lumps to it, cover with snow, put on two long
slippery pieces of wood, stand on your dresser, and look down.  Only
then will you see what it's like to look at the first 1 percent of
K27.  Then imagine it stretching another 100 bed lengths and widen it
by a few hundred feet.  It is intimidating at first, and deadly at
worst, but exhilarating once you ski it.
	So we set off down Seventh Avenue for a bit.  The snow was excellent,
by New England standards, at least: packed powder, as it is called,
and pockets of looser powder here and there.  We skied down at a
leisurely pace, carving wide esses across the ample slope, except Mike
who bee-lined it to the turnoff for Eisenhower where he stopped and
waited for us.
	I was in no hurry, and it felt good to try out the snow and flex
unused muscles.  I looked at Michelle ahead of me.  She skies good, I
thought, watching her legs flex up and down, absorbing the small bumps
and turns.  I pushed ahead and caught up to her as we approached Mike.
	"Not bad!" I yelled, smiling.
	"Yeah, the snow is nice!" she yelled back.
	"No, I mean your skiing!"
	"Oh, thanks!"
	We soon came to a stop next to Mike.  Kevin was behind and arrived a
few seconds later.
	"What took you so long.  I already ate lunch!" said Mike.  I knew he
would say something like that.
	"Shut up," I retorted.  "Alright, Eisenhower next, and we'll take the
same lift, I guess."
	I set off first, passing into the narrower channel that was the
beginning of Eisenhower drive.  I looked back, Kevin and Michelle
followed, and Mike, who was fussing with a glove, was just turning to
push off.  I picked up some speed as the main slope of the trail
approached and I zipped down the hill.  Two weeks of waxing my skis
had provided ample slickness, and I felt a good gust of wind as I was
reaching the bottom.  I skied through the flat bottom and across the
Battery and over to the lift line area.  I paralleled to a nice stop,
kicking up a small wave of snow.  I am warmed up now, I thought.
	Kevin and Michelle were a bit slower, but in skiing delays are
counted in seconds so they were not far behind.  They pulled up and
waited with me, looking back for Mike.
	"Maybe we should just go to another lift," I said, only half joking.
	"Nah, there he is."
	He shot around the bend of trees and headed for us, in a tucked
position.  He had considerable speed, because of both his weight and
his extra long 200-centimeter skis.
	"Shit," I said.  He was not slowing at all, and I could see a grin on
his face.  "Fucker!" I managed only to turn my head before being
engulfed in a cloud of white.  About 20 feet away, he had paralleled
to a stop, kicking up a huge could of snow, directed right at us
three.  It's an old ski prank.  And annoying as hell, because the snow
gets all in your neck and face and head, and it's goddamn cold as
hell.  If the person pulling the prank wipes out, there could be
disastrous consequences of course.  Fortunately Mike didn't crash land
into us.
	When the mist cleared Mike was standing there laughing, unscathed,
while the three of us were draped with patches of snow.  I was pretty
pissed as I brushed some snow off my neck and coat.
	"What the fuck, asshole?" I said.
	"You guys look a little wet, did you take a fall?" he asked
mockingly.  I discreetly gathered a small ball of snow as I was
brushing myself off, and hurled it at his head.  He turned a bit, but
it nailed him on the ear.
	"Shit," he let out, and started to scrape up snow from the ground to
return fire.
	"Quit it, ass," said Kevin.  Michelle was still trying to remove the
snow from behind her hat.  In an ungentlemanly effort to hide from the
imminent snowball, and also to help her out, I got behind her and
brushed the snow away.
	Mike got up and threw a handful of snow at Kevin.  It hit his arm. 
Mike bent down at the waist again and started gathering again.  Kevin
looked a bit mad now, and he took his pole, and firmly placed it on
Mike's boot, pushing hard.  In a moment, Mike was on the floor, one
ski popping awkwardly off with a snap.  Michelle and I laughed.
	"Let's go," I said, pulling back and making for the line as Mike got
up, cursing to himself.  The line was short, but not short enough to
get on before Mike was geared up again and on the line with us.  He
slid up next to Kevin, not saying anything.  We stood in silence.
	Suddenly, Kevin lost his balance and tumbled into Michelle, who fell
domino-like into me.  I was able to put my pole out and keep us up
with one hand as I put my arm around Michelle's waist to help keep her
balance.  Kevin steadied himself.  I noticed his one ski was off, and
Mike was sniggering.
	"What was that?" I asked, as Michelle straightened up and I
reluctantly let go of her waist.
	"Dickhead here pushed out my binding.  That was real funny Mike. 
Fuckin' asshole."
	"Yo, will you chill?" I said to Mike.  He broke out into a laugh. 
God, he could be so annoying.
	Mike somehow had taken Kevin's place so Michelle was between Mike and
me.  Kevin was behind, stepping into his binding again.  I looked
back, and gave Kevin a little nod. Kevin pointed to Mike's boot
questioningly.  I shook my head, and mouthed "push him up."
	Kevin gently placed his poles on Mike's ski backs, and then pushed
hard.  Mike burst forward, bumping up against the people in front of
us.  Unfortunately he managed to stop himself and apologize to them
quick enough to maintain his balance, and maintain his position next
to Michelle as well.
	I looked back, and gave Kevin a shrug.  Looked like Kevin was gonna
ride alone since we were next.  The people in front sat in their chair
and we pushed off into the loading zone.  But as soon as Mike was
committed, I jabbed my pole in front of Michelle's body and into the
snow on the other side of her, bringing her to a quick but easy stop
against it.  Mike didn't see it until he was already in the pickup
zone, and we laughed as he was forced to sit alone on his chair.
	He let out a "Shit."  The chair operator told him not to curse, and
we laughed again.  The three of us got on the next chair.  I slapped
palms with Kevin.
	"That was a nice move there, Rob," said Michelle.  I liked the way
she said my name.
	"Sorry, I hope it didn't hurt."
	"No, not at all.  I was thinking of stopping so I was kinda ready for
it."
	"Mike can be a real dick when he gets going."
	"Yeah, I've noticed.  My neck is still wet."
	"We gotta lose him man," said Kevin, softly.  "I can't ski with him
all day."
	"Yeah.  Let's wait until we hit the summit, and then it will be easy.
Down here if we try and lose him we'll meet him again for sure."
	We skied a few more runs without incident until it was time to test
out.  We skied up to the instruction hut, where Luke and Debbie were
waiting.  Tonya and Valerie were also there.  There was no instructor
in the hut, so we took off our gloves and hats, and stood around.  It
was five of ten.
	We waited, mostly in silence, for about fifteen minutes.
	"Where is this guy?" someone said.
	"Yeah, what's the deal.  We are wasting our money here."
	We waited some more, getting increasingly angry and frustrated.  At
ten twenty someone went into the main lodge to look for an instructor,
but found no one.  Crowds were forming as the late risers from New
York were arriving at the slopes, and good skiing was being wasted.
	"This sucks dick," I said, to no one and everyone.
	"Yeah.  I say we just go." said Michelle.
	"Five more minutes, and then we're gone."
	In another five minutes, at ten-forty, we were putting on hats and
glasses when an instructor skied up.  He took off his shades and
looked at us.  He was about to go in the hut.
	"Hello, we are here to test for the summit," I yelled over.
	"What?"
	"We need to test out to be able to go to the summit."  I showed him
my pass stamp.
	"Are you all taking lessons?"
	"No."
	"O.K., wait a second."  He went inside, and a few minutes passed. 
Finally he emerged, with some stamp in hand.
	"Alright, lemme see your passes."  He started walking around, adding
a new stamp to our passes.  It said "Belt Parkway only" on it.
	"Wait, what's this?" I asked.
	"It's a stamp for the summit."
	"But it says "Belt Parkway Only"?"
	"Yeah.  That's all you can ski from the summit."
	"What!?  We want to do the other trails."
	"You have group beginner passes, and I can only stamp you for Belt
Parkway unless you take a lesson."
	"How long does that take?"
	"An hour, starts at twelve."
	"What the hell, we all know how to ski well!"
	"Sorry," he said, "mountain rules."  He walked on, and finished
stamping the other's passes.
	"Bullshit," I said.
	"Damn right it's bullshit," said Kevin, loudly.  The instructor
didn't hear or care, and geared up and went into the hut.
	"What the fuck are we gonna do?" I said.
	"Well, let's get on line at least," said Michelle.  "Maybe Belt
Parkway will be fun."
	"It's a good trail, but not all day."
	Our group of eight headed for the summit triple chair.  We were
quiet.  Luke and Debbie paired off first, and then Kevin, Michelle and
I tripled up.  Mike got on line with his sister Val and Tonya.  We
leaned on our poles, silently venting our frustrations.  I needed to
come up with a plan to ditch Mike.
	We were on the chair fairly quick.	"Alright this is the deal," I said
as soon as the bar was down.  "I figger the only way we will get
caught if we are not skiing on Belt Parkway is if we crash and a ski
patrol stops to see if we are O.K.  So we ski where we want, and don't
take a bad fall and break your leg or something."
	"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," said Kevin.  "Besides, who gives
a shit.  I've never even seen them looking at tickets in all my years
of skiing."
	"Well, I'm for it," said Michelle.
	"O.K.  I also got a plan to ditch dick boy," I continued.  "We start
a race for the bottom on Belt Parkway.  Let him take off, along with
whoever follows.  I mean, keep up and pretend you're in it, but stay
behind.  Then, Kev, we take Way Out, and head down to Hunter West. 
After Way Out, there is no way to get to Hunter West from the Belt,
even if he looks back and sees us turning off.  Unless he either
climbs back up the hill, by which point we'll be long gone down our
slope, or he comes back down here and goes up the lift again.  We'll
definitely lose him.  Michelle, you need to stay behind so you don't
pass it."
	It was a foolproof plan.  Somehow I needed to tell Luke, so he could
join us, but it would have to wait until the summit.
	At the top of the summit chair, there are several choices one can
take: a trail straight ahead from the lift landing leads to the top of
Hunter West, which is the expert side of the mountain.  If you go to
the left that leads to Upper K27 which is actually not part of Hunter
West, even though it is a hard trail.  If you double back under the
lift, you head for the main section of the mountain.  A small slope
there leads to a three-way fork: to the right is the feeder trail to
Hellgate.  Straight-ahead leads to the Cliff, another single-diamond
trail.  A turn to the left brings you to the head of Belt Parkway. 
Once you get on Belt Parkway, the only way to get off is to ski it for
about 1000 feet, curve to the right, and meet the start of Way Out,
which is a single diamond trail leading to Hunter West.   After that
turn-off, Belt Parkway is isolated, leading only to the Battery down
by the main lodge.
	We discussed the details of the plan on the way up, starting to feel
good about the day again.  It was 11:10 when we reached the summit.  I
hurriedly skied to Luke and relayed our plan to ditch Mike.
	"His sister is here, though, Rob," said Deb.
	"Well, she can make her choice at the time," I said, a bit coldly.  I
like Val, but not that much that I wouldn't ditch her too if that's
what it took to lose Mike.
	Speaking of which, Mike pulled up with his sister and Tonya.
	"Alright, let's race!" I said when we were all ready.  "First one
down to the lift line wins it!"  I pushed off, and sure enough Mike
lunged out past me and into the lead.  He was strong, and soon had a
good ten ski lengths on the rest of us before we even reached the top
of Belt.  I pushed on, but not too much.  Michelle stayed back.
	Fortunately Tonya and Val were in the back.  I lost sight of Mike as
he entered Belt Parkway momentarily, and then saw him again as I
rounded the turn myself.  Kevin passed me, tucked down.  Mike was
looking back, and then he crouched again.  So far so good.  We picked
up speed as Belt started to fall away before us.  The big right hand
turn was crowded ahead, so I slowed up.  Mike busted through the
scattered people who were awkwardly making their way down the hill,
and rounded the turn.  Kevin followed.  I looked back.  Michelle was
on my heels, Luke next to her, and the three girls were a bit behind. 
I rounded the bend.
	The sign for Way Out was in the distance, and to my great joy, Mike
zoomed passed it, leaving a small trail of snow mist.  I let up just a
bit.  Kev was still barreling down, and for a few seconds I was
worried he had forgotten the plan.  Suddenly he veered to his left,
and sailed over the lip that was the start of Way Out.  I saw him fly
out over the top, airborne, and then drop out of sight.  If I knew
Kevin, the race was still very much on, except it was to the bottom of
Hunter West!
	I was approaching the trail turn-off fast.  I looked back, and waved
to Michelle.  She pointed at the trail sign with her pole, indicating
that she saw it.  I tucked down, and broadly arced to my left, zipping
a few feet from a couple of old men standing around.  "Comin' thru," I
let out as I whooshed by.  The lip approached; you could not see the
trail past it, and for a moment I hoped there was nothing over the
edge of the lip in my way.
	I tucked down, and blasted over the lip, and Way Out suddenly
appeared, dropping from under me for a few seconds, and then coming
back up to meet me as I landed the jump.  Kevin was ahead, almost
flying.  Way Out had a steep, smooth top-slope, and I was suddenly
going as fast as wind resistance would allow.  I peered behind
briefly.  Michelle, Luke and Debbie were over the lip, thankfully.  I
saw Tonya and Val pulling to a stop at the top of the lip, probably
debating which way to go.  Whatever, I thought, and concentrated fully
on the race now, even though it would be tough to catch Kevin.
	I reached the bottom of the steepest part of the slope with
tremendous speed.  I hoped I wouldn't catch a rut and go flying to my
death, but the adrenaline kept me from slowing up.  Up ahead, Kevin
was essing around groups of people.  Good, that'll slow him a bit.  I
saw an open channel on the left edge of the trail, and zagged over to
the left, blowing by the small groups of skiers.  I was indeed gaining
on Kevin, to my surprise.  Another steep section emptied out into the
bottom part of Clair's Way, a double diamond trail that leads down
from the summit.  I looked down the slope, and thankfully there were
plenty of large moguls ahead.  Sure enough, Kevin slowed and began to
navigate the large bumps.  I kept maximum velocity until last second,
and then slowed suddenly and entered the field of humps.  I had
shorter skis, and moguls were my strength, while Kevin's longer skis
usually won him the flat races.
	I was not far behind now, and at the risk of losing some time, I
carved across the slope to what looked like a better set of bumps,
angling through the valleys between the large moguls.  Kevin caught
the edge of his ski on a bump, and was briefly turned around, but was
quickly on his way again.  That inspired me, and I cut downhill.  I
was doing well, until I ran out of room at one bump, and it was either
crash or go over it.  I went over.
	Airborne, I looked for a landing spot, and with nothing good, landed
on the upslope of the next bump with a jarring shock to my knees. 
"Shit."  I turned and avoided the crest though, and got back into the
pattern.  I was even with Kevin, to his left.  He looked over, and
doubled his efforts.  The moguls flattened out as the trail hit its
last steep section before bottoming out at the lift line, which was
now in sight.  I had a few ski lengths on him when we dipped into the
last slope.  I tucked in, peeking to my right.  Kevin was gaining
again.  It was close.  We sped down the hill as it bottomed out.  I
looked over, and he was looking at me.  It was even.  We raised up,
and skidded to a stop with a fine spray of mist.
	"Jesus," he breathed, "that was a good one.  I think it was a tie."
	"Yeah.  I was burnin' at the top of Way Out, and I didn't go into it
like you did.  You musta been flying."
	"Yeah, I was kicking some ass.  I landed on one foot, and barely held
the landing, but once I was down, I was creamin'.  Those people there
slowed me up or you would never have seen me."  He was breathing hard,
as was I.  We looked up the hill.  Luke was just descending the last
hill, but he was straight up, not racing.  Michelle was close behind.
	"Well, we lost'm," I said.
	"Yeah, none too soon, either."
	"I knew he'd take that bait.  Mike is more competitive than rats in a
sinking ship."
	"What about Val and Tonya?  Mike's a dick, but I wouldn't mind skiing
with Tonya at all."
	"Oh yeah?  Some interest going on there?"
	"Sure.  With tits like hers, there's always interest," he said.  I
laughed.
	Luke pulled to a stop by us.
	"Alright!  That was a good run.  I guess we lost Mike.  He's gonna be
pissed at us."
	"Nah," I dismissed.  "I said first one to the bottom, but never which
bottom.  I'll just tell him we had agreed on this bottom and he missed
it."
	"O.K.  It doesn't matter much anyway, we probably won't see him until
four thirty."  We laughed as Michelle pulled up.
	"What?" she asked.  "Did I look funny?"
	"Yeah," said Kevin.  "When you wiped out."
	"I didn't wipe out."
	"We were just talking about Mike," I said.
	"What about him." she said dryly.  "He's probably standing at the
triple chair now wondering where the hell we are.  If he hadn't been
such an asshole earlier, I'd probably feel bad."
	"He'll figure it out soon enough," I said.  "Did Tonya and Val follow
him?"
	"I don't know.  They were standing at the top for a while."
	"There they are," said Luke, pointing with his pole.  The two of them
and Debbie were making their way down the last hill.
	"Well, I guess Mike's on his own."
	"I bet Val and Tonya will want to look for him later, though," said
Luke.
	"Well, whatever.  I ain't waiting for him," said Kevin.  He pushed
off and got on line.  We followed as the three girls pulled up.
	"Hey, so where's Mike?" asked Val.
	"I don't know," said Luke, feigning ignorance.
	"Bullshit, you guys ditched him," said Tonya.  I felt a little bad
inside.
	"He kept going down Belt, and the race was to here.  He must have not
heard."
	"That's funny, cause I didn't hear that either," said Val.  She
didn't look mad, and was smiling a bit, actually.
	"Well, he ain't here now, so let's go."
	Hunter West ends here at this chair lift.  The base is on the west
face of the mountain, separate from the main lodge, so to leave Hunter
West you need to take the chair lift up, and then ski down the main
mountain.  Conversely, to get to this lift from the main lodge, you
need to ride to the summit and ski one of the expert trails leading
down here, of which Way Out is the easiest, and Way Out is a steep one.
	All this makes for very uncrowded lines on Hunter West and soon we
were on the lift.  As we were getting on, Luke lit up a smoke, and
offered me one.
	"You know I don't smoke when I ski."
	Kevin took one, lit up and hopped on a chair alone.  I got on with
Michelle next.  Luke and Debbie were after us and Val and Tonya last.
	"Do you smoke?" asked Michelle.
	"Not when I ski," I replied.
	"What about normally?"
	"No.  Rarely."
	"Why not when you ski?"
	"I had a bad experience."
	"What was that?"
	"I was skiing with Luke, about three years ago.  I was in seventh
grade I guess, and he was in eighth.  Our families were at my dad's
house up here, and Luke had brought some cigarettes.  I had never
tried any, and I don't think he had either.  We went out back into the
woods one night and smoked a few.  They were goddamn Marlboros, red
ones, strong, you know.
	"It wasn't bad.  I thought I would be coughing forever from all you
hear and see from parents and shit, but I didn't cough at all, it just
felt like my throat was a little gagged.  But I got used to it pretty
quick, and we smoked some and hung out.
	"The next day we were at Windham Mountain, about 20 minutes north of
here.  Luke had brought the butts again, and after lunch we were on
one chair lift going up to the hard section.  We lit up again, and
smoked a couple each.  He also had some chewing tobacco."
	"Nasty," offered Michelle.
	"No shit.  So near the top we packed in some of this foul weed.  I
was already lightheaded from the cigs, and this stuff really made it
bad.  It tasted like dirty hell, too.  We got off and headed down some
trail, double diamond with big bumps, sorta like Clair's Way here," I
said, pointing at the trail under us.
	"I had trouble focusing on the moguls because I was so lightheaded. 
All was going well," I continued, "sort off, until I hit a bump and
the wad jumped into my windpipe.  I started coughing, and I landed on
another bump, and flew off that, well beyond control.  I got some
serious air.  I landed on a strip of ice - it was a sheet - and my
legs landed first and took off, leaving my head to fall onto the ice."
	Michelle let out a painful hiss, and winced.
	"I hit the back of it, and was pretty woozy for a bit.  I was freaked
out about the chewing tobacco, and I vaguely remember spitting it out
and throwing it across the trail.  I was really dizzy, and my head
hurt.  Luke came up, and helped me up.  My head was bleeding a little,
and I think I passed out, but I was still awake too.  It was like a
bad dream."
	"Were you alright?"
	"Not really.  A ski patrol came by about two minutes later and
stopped.  Anyway, they called down a stretcher, because they wanted to
make sure it wasn't a concussion or some shit like that."
	"Damn.  That's freaky."
	"They took me down, and the fuckin' sleigh ride was fast, and I was
really dizzy, I thought I was gonna puke.  Finally we got to the hut,
and they looked at it, put on a bandage.  By that time I was feeling
good, except some pain in the neck, but I knew I was not hurt, so they
let me go.  I was alright, anyway, but it was fucked up."
	"Sounds like.  I once broke my leg skiing."
	"Really?  That must have sucked."
	"Yeah.  This asshole plowed into me and sent me flying down the
trail.  Some how my ski didn't let off and twisted around.  It was a
rental ski.  My dad was pissed, because the binding wasn't set right
for my weight or something, so it didn't go off.  He never rented skis
for me again, and bought me my own, so at least that was one good
thing to come out of it."
	"How long were you in a cast for?"
	"A couple of months till I was off the crutches and walking."
	"Jeez.  That would blow a season."
	"Yeah.  I got a lot of rest though, so it wasn't as bad as it sounds."
	"Hmmmm…"
	We sat in silence for a bit watching skiers below us.  A pretty girl
with long dark hair lost control and splatted into a mound of snow,
losing poles and skis.  She seemed to be all right though.
	"There was a wipeout," I said.
	"Yeah.  I hate falling.  It freaks me out.  Trouble is, I like to go
fast and ski hard stuff."
	"Yeah me too," I agreed.  "Not to be all big or anything, but I have
not fallen in a while, thankfully."
	"Me neither.  I've had some close ones, and a few minor trip-ups, but
no speedy wipeouts."
	The now snow-covered girl was brushing herself clean.  Two guys were
gathering her things, one ski having slid down a good distance before
being stopped by another skier.
	"At least people will help you get back up though."
	"Yeah," I agreed.  "I'll never forget the first time I tackled a
black diamond slope.  It was fairly steep, but no moguls.  My uncle,
who's a huge dude, took Luke and me up there.  We were probably about
nine.  He brought us to the top of this thing, and then said "bye" and
sped down the hill, straight down it.  He left only two parallel lines
in the snow.
	"We were shitting.  We had been skiing for a few years, and weren't
bad, but this was a pretty steep hill.  It was about like the top of
Way Out, maybe a little less.  Actually it was probably a lot less and
time has just made it a lot steeper."
	"I know what you mean," said Michelle, laughing.
	"Anyway, we started down.  We mostly slid down, skiing to the side
'til we reached the trees, then gingerly turning, and skiing back
across, making our way down real slow.
	"We got down pretty easily that way, and man, were we pumped!  We
burned down the rest of the mountain, having conquered our first
diamond hill.  We were high as hell."
	"That's funny."
	"Wait.  It's not over yet.  We went back to the top of this hill
again.  It looked less steep now that we had been on it.  We were
feeling all big, so we set off down the hill, more aggressively. 
Quite a goddamn bit more aggressively!!  We probably went about twenty
feet before we slipped on some ice and fell.  Nearly at the same time.
 Both our skis fell off, and I watched in horror as one of mine turned
slowly downhill, and sped off, kicking up a spray of snow as the slide
guards dug in.  The hill was so steep that the ski wouldn't stop, and
it went all the way to the bottom!  I was pissed.  Luke's skis
suffered similar fates.  A minute later a few guys appeared, and
helped us gather our poles, but couldn't do much for our skis.
	"Needless to say, we slid down on our asses the whole way, zigzagging
across the mountain to collect each ski where it had finally stopped. 
It was a good lesson, though."
	"That's very funny," said Michelle, looking at me.  I looked her in
the eyes.  They were beautiful.  I stared at her for a few seconds,
not feeling awkward any more.  She smiled.
	"You and Luke are pretty good friends," she stated.
	"Yeah, we grew up together.  He is practically my brother."
	"Do you have any brothers, or sisters?"
	"Yeah, one brother, younger."
	"Only child," she answered my unasked question.
	"Mm-hm."
	"So what trail do we do now?" she asked.
	"I guess this one here.  Doesn't look like Westway is open," I said,
pointing to our right.
	"This one looks interesting," she said, eyeing the dense mogul field
below us.
	"It is."