The Trail

The wind whizzed through my hair and my heart beat quickly as I looked down from the lift. It's a good thing I'm not afraid of heights because it was quite the drop, but I didn't care. The only thing I could think of was going down this amazing trail. As we reached the top, the sun blazed over the mountain and I was surprised that I hadn't exploded with suspense. Soon enough, it was time.

My journey started far before I woke up on that amazing day. It started when I first realized my love for skiing. Now I'm not completely sure when that was, but I know it is more than a love, it is a passion. I always wanted to get better, to go down the "big kid" trails and to be like my dad. Throughout the years I had steadily improved but there was always (and still is) room for more. When I had heard that my dad went down a big trail called White Heat, I had no idea what it was, for, being such a sweet innocent child, people never saw the need to trouble me with these kinds of things. When I was told that White Heat was a double black diamond and possible the steepest trail in New England, you can imagine how I felt. Well maybe you can't. I was aspiring, impatient, but most of all exasperated when they wouldn't let me go down.

"I want to go down! When can I go down? C'mon let's go!" It's obvious the answers I got. A whole lot of "You're not ready" and "It's too steep" and other things like that. I was disappointed, but I didn't let that stop me. I bided my time and trained hard; everything would pay off in the end. The trip of a lifetime was coming – some day. So I patiently waited; continuously leaving my sisters behind on the trails and zipping off on my own way in my own world. Some day, some day I'd get there.

Later it was, for only a year ago did I set off for Maine on my dream adventure. When we got there, who should we meet, but some good friends that we met through my sister's soccer team – no matter how much I loath the fact that it was through her that I met such a good friend. Apparently they had been down it already, so luckily for me I convinced my mom because my dad had been ready for this for a while.

The next day I awoke with quite the taste for adventure and a longing to hit the slopes. Uncharacteristic of my morning self, I was bright and happy that morning because I knew that was day I would ski the infamous White Heat. That morning in preparation for the Big Run we took as many blues and diamonds as we could to get to the main lodge. At nearly noon time we met up with – the Geiger triplets – Devro, Andreas, and Mariah, Oh and their parents and little sister. Much to my disappointment and extreme jealousy, they had already been down it a few times that morning. Good for me though they were fine with going down again.

My youngest sister and mom were obviously not going (she was only three). My parents thought Sarah (my ten year old sister) was ready, but she didn't think she was. I can't remember if we actually convinced her to go down, but I didn't really care. I was going down and that is all that mattered.

Once we got over to White Cap, which is the name of the peak on which White Heat is located on, my heart was beating in excitement. This is it, I'm going down, but, first we had to get up. TO THE LIFTS! At the bottom of the lift we looked up. I shuddered at the greatness of the height and steepness. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears or was that just the lift seat picking us up to begin the ascent? With eyes wide I drank in the scene. Below me was White Heat "the steepest trail", the one that I had been fantasizing of for so long, above me was the bright sun shining on glittering snow and showing the sparseness of the trees at the top of this peak. Looking down again, I saw a nearly vertical drop bathed in light depthless blue. In these stretches there was almost no way to perceive if there were bumps, lumps, or not.

Getting off the lift I had to shield my eyes because of the huge, bright, sun. It seemed so much bigger here at the top of the world. Our blue shadows followed our every move as we made our way to the edge of the first drop; the top of White Heat. I couldn't take it anymore, so, barely waiting for consent, I plunged into the blue nothingness of the first drop. My stomach stayed behind and came fluttering back to me when I finally saw real snow and could actually perceive true depth. Every small doubt and nervousness was gone. At the end of the first drop, the triplets and I were just waiting for the slow people we are sometimes proud enough to call our parents. They came into view and I took off again with my face contorted into the most enlightened and happy smile I'll ever wear. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a few moguls. In my enlightened state I decided I could do anything. To the moguls we go! Okay the moguls were a little harder than expected, but it did nothing to put a damper on my high spirits. Up ahead was the next stretch of unpredictable blueness. Into the vast world of unknowingness I went …Waahoooooo! Despite the fact that at some points in the run I could stick my hand out behind me and feel the side of the mountain, it was so steep, I still had the strong urge to make any small, insignificant, bump into a small jump. Doing away with all common sense, I went for some jumps and I must say, I did get some pretty good air.

"Oh yeah! Let's do it again!" So we did, and this time I had new thoughts when I got to the top. This can hardly be called the top of the world. Imagine what other mountains wait out there, calling for me to come and ski down them. I am on to BIGGER AND BETTER MOUNTAINS! When I've finished my next goal of going down every diamond and double-black this place has to offer. Next year I will comb SundayRiver top to bottom; left to right. I will leave no trail untouched.

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So yeah. I did that for school. What did you think?