I hear the fire crackling, the pans clanging, and the ski boots clicking. It is only seven in the morning and my family of five is already up and running. My mother is making scrambled eggs and toast and my father is packing our lunches in his backpack. Caroline, Claire, and I begin to look like triplets because of the way we are dressed and have our hair braided. We all rush downstairs, grab our plates and devour the cinnamon-covered bread and cheese-covered eggs. The milk goes down my throat making me feel a cold sensation. We begin to sweat in all of our layers, so we bring our plates to the sink and quickly head downstairs to get our skis.

Our calves start to burn halfway up the street, headed towards the lift. As we stand in line, the sun starts to rise and we feel the rays upon our face beneath our helmets. We scan our tickets for the day and wait for the lift to bump our thighs and scoot us onto the seat. Each one of us hops off the lift and skis to the side where we can stop to talk about our first day. First off my dad says “Where are we going to meet if we lose someone and have no service?” We finally agreed to meet at a ski patrol tent next to our favorite coffee shop. 

And we're off. I can feel the cold, brisk, snow-filled air against my goggles. I feel free, as if nothing could hold me back. We fly down the mountain and cut off into a train park. Caroline and I begin to be dare devils, we quickly head towards the boxes. Our skis skid across them and we feel balanced as we try and keep our skis together acting like french fries. The ice on the rails shimmered in the sun looking at us as if we were scared to go. 

The rails dared me, and I simply said no, just as Caroline yelled “CHICKEN” right ahead of me.

We ski so quickly that we left our family behind. I can smell the salt and butter coming straight from the pretzel shop below the hill. We headed into the lift line to wait as our mouths started to water.  

As we reach the top for what seems like we have been patrons of the mountain forever, we head towards the double black diamond. The anxiety begins to rush through my body as I look down the hill. The ice patches glisten in the sun, and the powder is in piles, my legs are shaking and I could already feel my toes sliding towards the tip of my boot as I started down the mountain. We find ourselves weaving in and out of the trees feeling as free as can be. Suddenly I hit a root, and I can not move. My skis were stuck and my poles were of no use. My family goes on and I try to yell for help but they are already too far down the mountain. I try to collect my thoughts to calm myself down, but all I can think of is that I have no cell phone, which means no way to tell my parents.

 I whisper under my breath “Please come back, I need help.” 

I am alone on the side of an icy double black diamond. Wind whips my face, snowflakes falling on my black snow pants, showing off their design. My hands are numb as I try to reach for my poles, but the sounds of two snowboarders coming down the mountain distracted me. They are moving quickly with their boards scraping the snow off the ground leaving a snow cloud behind them. The noise stops and I look up, to see two college aged boys standing above me and my pitiful body sitting in the snow. They look giant, the anxiety begins to stir within me. I blink my snowflake covered eye lashes, the snow melting upon my cheeks. 

One of them initiates conversation with me by saying “Would you like some help? You look like you’re struggling. Are you alone?” 

From what my parents had taught me, you are never alone, so I responded to him saying “No I am okay, thank you. I am just waiting for someone.”

Sounds of skis carving into ice intersected within our conversation. The college boys end up skiing with me down the rest of the hill and they take me to ski patrol. As soon as we arrived I told both of them thank you and I went to go call my dad. 

When my dad arrived at the ski patrol, he said to me “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry that we left you behind. That was so wrong of us to do and we should’ve  noticed sooner.” My dad knew they had to make it up to me somehow, so my sisters and mom went for another ski run, but my dad and I headed over to the little coffee shop in the lodge and we had hot chocolate and croissants. We started to talk about what had just happened and all my emotions just got the best of me and I started crying because I was finally able to relax. My dad, being very supportive, comforts me in his arms. 

As I was laying in bed that night, my thoughts started wandering off and thinking about what had happened that day. I realized that in tough situations, I need to loosen up and find my center before panicking. This event shows me that through the ins and outs of my life time, not all strangers are trouble and I should always go with what my gut feeling tells me.