The Descent
Oh’ beautiful city of Kelowna; surrounded by wineries, a lake that shines like a sapphire and hectares of mountains towering over 3500 metres. Unique to many other cities due to its high altitudes; equatorial weather climates during the summer and frigid temperatures during the winter and most importantly one of the largest ski hills in North America, Big White. Unlike many other skiing destinations, with hundreds of shops at the base camp populated by tourists and less experienced skiers. The mountainside is much more bleak with experienced skiers as well as fewer skiers in general.
That brings me to a time when I had once vacationed there. My mother and I had traveled to Kelowna during spring break. Usually, my brother travels with us but since he is newly in University he was unable to come. I think of myself as an experienced skier, although this year I wasn’t able to ski with anyone due to my mother having a hip injury only allowing her to ski the beginner hills. We had stayed in a luxurious hotel at the base of the mountain, directly beside a ski lift, convenient for fetching a ride closer to the summit and Although I did meet people along the way, we weren’t together for very long.
Skiing alone gives a great sense of freedom. Allowing you to ski throughout the alpine with no restrictions. However, there are some boundaries that I had placed on myself. Since I am skiing alone it can be very dangerous; deciding not to go to the hazardous double black diamonds, and not the go into the glades due to the suffocating tree wells. It had then been three to four days since arriving I had pretty much claimed the entire mountain to be in my possession. Feeling comfortable with the terrain I had then made the abject mistake of my life of traveling alone to the peak and head towards the treacherous Parachute Bowl. A run shaped in a bowl of course; giving little to no depth perception from the reflective sun rays, with unbelievable sheer slopes. Making it impossible to stop at high speeds even after tumbling off of your skis.
I had reached the lift towards the peak of the mountain, an uneventful ten-minute ride that I, for little reason believed it would be worth the wait. Nearing the peak a snow storm had hit the mountain though it was too late to venture back. All alone at the summit; withering away in hypothermic temperatures; ravens flocking around the entrance to hell. I sat there for a minute or two before I decided to plummet down the hill; icier than expected; struggling to gain control; then eventually I was able to maintain my authority until I heard the sound of snow shifting, it almost made the same sound as if someone was shoveling sand. Turning around to my horror I had caused a micro avalanche. I began to race down the hill searching for any cover I can find, there it was. ‘’The glades!’’ Crossing the hill and entering the glades, the trees behind me were able to cease the snow. At last.
Written by Jay Hanlon
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