Chapter 4: The Climax
With one sharp movement, I jumped in and made a turn to the right, keeping my skis farther apart than necessary, but weighting well on the downhill leg, edging my ski into the snow-pack like a madman on a survival coarse. I let my skis go briefly and jumped another turn to the left and then back to the right. Keep your weight forward, Josh. Hold that edge. I'm doing it! I was making turns down the steepest thing I've ever seen, right and left and right and left. I kept going, knowing I had just come into my friends' view. ‘Look at Josh tearing it up,' they were probably thinking. Forget them, just stay focused. And when I heard their hoots and hollers from above, I had to focus that much harder on the moment.
After many turns I pulled to a stop and looked back at the accomplishment. I felt a wave of comfort as gentle laughter escaped from my lungs, full of emotion and relief.
Rudy yelled down, “How's the snow?”
I yelled back, “Perfect corn!” Their faces showed their eagerness, and I guessed they were going to enter the same way I had. I knew they were about to meet the telemarkers.
From where I stood on my skis perpendicular to the fall line, the slope was angled so much that my extended hand could actually touch the snow-pack to my side while standing completely vertical, without bending over. I couldn’t believe I felt so comfortable on such a steep pitch. I made a few more turns and then waited for the others.
Sam came first. He made about three turns and lost it. He started sliding fast right towards me from about a hundred yards above. One of his skis came off, but he instinctively grabbed it and then somehow managed to stop himself. He slid fifty yards in two seconds and yet was able to grind his downhill ski into the slope and stop. He quickly placed his other ski above it and clicked his boot back in. It was one of the most amazing things I'd ever seen while skiing. I'll never know how he pulled off that recovery.
Tess came next. She ventured in slowly and after making the first turn she started skiing each one more aggressively. Her body became at ease as she danced from turn to turn, bounding down the steepness with fluid grace. She called out like an Indian warrior, expressing her glee in a high pitched shrill. How amazing it was to watch her. Beauty, grace and power all wrapped into one. She skied right up to me and stopped just above, sending a shower of fine corn pellets across my skis up to my boots.
“Yeah!” Tess exclaimed, giving me a high-five from above.
Rudy followed and made very nice turns, carving up the steep and sending millions of scurrying snowballs rolling downhill. I went back and forth from watching him to the snowballs, delighting in the moment. Rudy made a dozen broad sweeping turns and stopped just above Tess.
“Awesome!” he said. “Even better than I imagined.”
And now we were each successfully in, with several dozen of the best turns still to come. We had survived it after all. Now I was going to concentrate on some great skiing. My fear was completely left behind after that first right turn.
So I pointed my skis downhill, made one turn and crossed my tips. I instantly started tumbling. Shit!
I had seen videos of skiers flipping uncontrollably again and again. I'd never imagined it happening to me, but now it was. My body cart-wheeled and tumbled over and over with no end in sight like I was inside a washing machine. The soul thought that ran through my mind was that I was going to die.
In one second, fear had me in its grip.
I went limp in mind and body. I instinctively let myself go dead, arms flying here, legs flying there. Be calm. Don't fight the fall. Go with it. I didn't have to think. I just did it. A primitive survival mechanism took over and I just went limp, dying in a way, succumbing to the external, letting myself be at the mercy of the natural forces.
And finally I reached the gentler part of the slope and slid to a stop. Remarkably, I was still clicked into my skis. I held onto both of my poles. Even my sunglasses held fast. It seemed a small miracle that none of my gear had come loose. My mind went through a quick check-list of vital body parts.
“Josh! Are you okay?” Sam yelled.
“I'm alright,” I managed to say, not really convinced myself or sure if it was loud enough for them to hear me. I waved a ski pole high in the air.
Unbelievable. I had just taken the worst fall in my life, and it was cake. I had reassured Sam awfully fast, so I rechecked myself. Arms seemed okay. Legs seemed okay. Head seemed okay. And then I felt it. In my back, I felt a leaky sensation, a wet feeling, a soaking of fluids. I knew my entire back was soaking wet. Blood, I thought. Oh, God! What had I done? The flipping! I breathed slowly and deeply, fighting an attack of panic.
Fear had me again in moments, this time deeper than before.
I carefully slid out of my backpack, easing it ever so slowly off my arms. I inspected it, sure to see fresh blood. There was foamy substance everywhere. It wasn't blood, but what was it. I smelled it. I tasted it. Beer!
All four Budweisers had burst during the tumbles. I sighed with relief and laughed. I felt a little shaky, happy not to be hurt but still shaky. I didn't want to fall like that ever again.
The others skied down to me, Tess arriving first.
“Oh my God, Josh. Are you okay?”
“I am. I'm fine.”
“That's the worst crash I've ever seen. Are you sure?”
“Really, Tess.” I stood up onto my skis to prove it. My legs were a little shaky but they felt fine.
“Jesus, dude, I thought you bit the big one!” Rudy said.
“I fell, too, at the beginning,” Sam added, trying to make me feel better. “I was lucky not to slide for long.”
“Yeah,” Rudy said. “Most of your turns were still on skis, while Josh showed us a new way to go down the mountain, head over heels.”
I had to laugh. Rudy was right as usual and he just wanted to see me laugh. Everyone laughed hard when we realized I was fine.
“For a moment I thought I was going to die,” I admitted.
“Oh God, don't say that,” Tess insisted, reaching out to grab my arm.
“We all thought you were,” Rudy said.
“It just happened so fast,” I said reflecting on it. “And right after I was sure it would be no problem.”
“Glad you're alright,” Sam said.
“Sorry I can’t offer you a Budweiser.”
“It's okay. You still tripping?”
The lights from the snow crystals danced about all around us, and I knew my mind was still far from normal. “Like a madman,” I said.
“Good. That's all that matters.”
We made the remaining turns without mistakes and skated through the flat sections of the washout and valley. There we began our hike back to Sam's car. We traversed the valley floor for the following hour almost in complete silence, except when we turned back in time to watch the telemarkers ski it. They did pretty well—a few slides but nothing hairball. They were obviously well experienced on pins, or skinny skis.
After an hour of skating out on our skis, I saw a fire hydrant in the middle of the woods and welcomed myself back to civilized reality. Shortly beyond that, we reached the road and saw Sam's Jeep. We packed up our stuff, and Sam dropped us off starting with Tess.
After Tess grabbed her things and gave us each a hug, Sam and Rudy got back in the Jeep. I was just about to also, but I stood there momentarily frozen, watching her.
“Tess,” I said, stopping her and causing her to turn back around.
“Yeah?”
I wanted to let her know I thought the world of her. I wanted to ask her out, to do anything to spend more time with her. I wanted to be with her as friends and hopefully as more someday. I was crazy about her, but for some reason the words just wouldn't come. If I said anything, it would only become complicated.
“Thanks again, for reminding me to stay in the moment.”
Tess smiled. She said nothing but gave me a relaxed look in her eyes as if she knew what I was really thinking. Her hand made a small waving
gesture, and she headed off to her apartment. I sensed that was the closest I'd ever come to asking Tess for a date.
I climbed into the Jeep and rode with Sam as we dropped off Rudy. Then Sam took me to my place and helped me grab my gear. Standing in the driveway, I felt the last energies of mushrooms still in my system fading quickly as Sam drove away. My world was returning to its normal reality.
That night I lay awake in bed. The shroom buzz had long worn off as I recollected on what an incredible day it had been. I had set out to ski the extreme. I took psychedelic mushrooms to make it that much more intense. I entered a kingdom of fear and performed what I believed to be the proper ritual. I took a fall on skis like none I've ever taken, one that I prayed to never take again. I thought I was going to die, so overcome with fear that I went completely limp and let my body be taken by nature, come what may. I put myself in a situation where I had no choice; my life was momentarily out of my hands.
By chance, I didn't get hurt. I was extremely lucky.
But something about it still bothered me. I began to think of all the possible ways we could have gotten hurt or killed. Before long, I had a half-dozen scenes in my head that could have spelled disaster. The weather could have picked up into a freak storm that trapped us. One or even all four of us could have fallen badly and not been able to make it back. An avalanche could have swallowed us up as we sat on top of the platform. The mushrooms could have been strong enough to cause a bad trip, and then anything could have happened, especially getting lost in the back country and freezing to death overnight.
The more I thought of ways in which we were setting ourselves up, the more I felt it again.
The fear was back. It was back as strong as ever even though I was lying safely in my bed. It was still inside me and probably would be for life. I had naively set out to face my fear and conquer it. I figured that I could go soaring down The Edge out of my mind and come back a better person because I'd have beaten something.
Well, if I defied the face of death without a scratch, was it a success? Some uneasy feeling inside told me there would be another Edge. Fear hadn't gone away. It had enjoyed my company for a time. Now it was waiting to come out and play some other day. There's no beating fear forever. It just gets bored of one thing and waits for another. Today The Edge, tomorrow something else.
The main question is this; does fear want to hurt me or does it want to help me? I could easily argue both sides as the truth remains a mystery. Perhaps if I reach a level of higher enlightenment, then I could live fearlessly. But for now fear is my counterpart, my associate and maybe even my friend. Perhaps I'll never be without it, an intangible piece of me like creativity and intellect.
Fear shouldn’t rule your life, but it should be respected. To some degree, fear matters. Fear is important. There's nothing like the adrenaline rush you get when you're truly afraid. Fear is elusive, and it can smack you in the face with all its glory when you least expect it.
I may be able to catch air, but I'll never catch fear.
The End
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About the Author
Jason Matthews was born in North Carolina in 1967. He graduated from UNC-Chapel Hill in ‘90 with a degree in film and television. He writes and teaches self-publishing.
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Other Books by Jason Matthews
The following are available as ebooks and paperbacks at major retailers.
Better You, Better Me - There’s a better version of you ready to be energized. The ideas in this book are easy to add to your life, and they work wonders.
The Little Universe - a novel about creating a universe and discovering incredible things within it.
Jim's Life - the sequel novel, about a teenage boy on trial who can see and heal the human light fields, being hailed a miracle healer as the world argues over his case.
How to Make, Market and Sell Ebooks All for Free – self publish on any budget and sell ebooks at major retailers, your own sites on autopilot and much more.
How to Make Your Own Free Website: And Your Free Blog Too - a how to book for building free websites/blogs and making the most with them.
Get On Google Front Page - dedicated to SEO tips, using Google better and rising in search engine rankings.
Extreme Skiing and Psychedelic Mushrooms: The Art of Chasing Fear Page 5