I toppled off the intimidating ski lift and landed in a twisted pile, my lower body contorted by the stupid, stupid snowboard strapped to my already aching feet. After a dozen failed attempts to stand upright, my frozen ass and I surveyed the daunting feat before us. In all its glory, Snow Summit’s intermediate level ‘Miracle Mile’ course was the only thing between me, the ultra-novice, and the beautiful, dirty black concrete.
I immediately gathered that this was not the safest decision I had made. But there was now only one way down.
Wait, why was I not on the bunny slopes? And who convinced me to do such a crazy thing?
And then there came the voice: ‘C’mon Taraneh, I’ll help you. Don’t worry, girl.’
Ah, yes, there it was
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