My skis were dangling, the bindings that held them to my uncomfortable ski boots were about to give in at any moment, as was my strength to hold myself from sliding off the massive cliff that marked the true boundaries of the ski resort.

***

   It was the Christmas break of my seventh-grade year and my family as well as my uncle and two cousins, Gavin and Gaige, had decided to take a trip up to Lake Tahoe for the week. We had heard the news of a huge storm approaching Tahoe and knew that meant a lot of fresh powder, perfect for skiing. Though more snow also meant more crowds, especially on Christmas break. After what seemed like a ten-hour drive we had finally arrived at our hotel with the thick clouds of snow still raining down. We unpacked and got ready for the cold weather. I hastily threw on some of my new winter apparel I had gotten for Christmas as my impatient uncle waited by the door, hesitant to let the cold burst of winter air blow through the hall as he waited for his children and nephew to “pick up the pace,” as he always said. I also grabbed my favorite lumberjack snow cap that I wore every chance I could in the snow as it was made from the softest material you'd ever felt and reminded me of the furry silk hair of my childhood cat. I never got to wear this hat at home as my mother would say it made me look like a looney, but “what does she know,” as I always said as a rebelling misfit of a child.

   “Pleaassee can we go skiing?” Gavin and I continued to beg as we drove along the ice slickened road trying to contain our excitement as we were minutes away from arriving at the ski resort. We tired our parents with this same question from the second we saw the powder that would carry us down the fluffy ski hill, though we always received the same answer, “it's already three in the afternoon, I think it would be best to save your energy for a full day of skiing tomorrow.” To our dismay, we instead stuck with our parents as they spent the evening at the Squaw Valley Lodge. We walked around for a while, browsing the shops and attempting to convince our parents to let us buy something from the overpriced gift shops, though we were never successful. Eventually, the parents settled on a place to have a drink while we waited to be seated for dinner with our stomachs calling out for food. Then after dinner, we made some new friends with other families seeking warmth by the glistening fire pit. At around midnight, after the young kids had seemingly broken the parents to head home, we said our goodbyes and took the last shuttle back to the hotel to get some rest for the big day tomorrow.

   I woke up at five am the next morning to get an early start on the mountain with my cousins and their dad while the rest of the family slept in. We got on the mountain right as it opened with the fresh, heavy white snow from last night's storm still raining down and did a couple warm-up runs on the untouched glistening white fluff. Then, after getting our skiing legs stretched out, Gavin and I went off on our own to have some daring fun before the crowds rolled in. We headed up to the top of the mountain and to my surprise on the edge of a double black diamond. This was before I had really gotten good at skiing, and standing at the top of this expert run, to be completely honest, I was scared shitless. Not just because of the steep rugged cliff I stood perched upon, but because this deathwish I had gotten myself into also had an abundant amount of obstacles I would have to avoid on my way down. I watched as the fresh light snow from the last run still stuck to the top of my skis floated off the seemingly endless cliff and added to the deadly steep hill. As the fear hastily filled up my entire body I lost thought of everything else around me and all I could see was the mountain I thought for certain would be my last.

   Gavin had grown up in Colorado skiing every chance he got with his daredevil dad towing him along down any run he dared to attempt. Due to his childhood being filled with adrenaline and unwilling dare, Gavin had already gotten all of the fear and hesitation out of his system. So when it came to skiing, he had absolutely no fear of any run that was thrown at him, though this was not so true for me. In an attempt to convince me Gavin told me the story of how he became so fearless and good at skiing. “My dad put me in this exact same situation when I was younger,” he explained. “He took me to the top of an expert ski run and said to me, “either you get down, or you don’t.” Right as Gavin had said this, I quickly realized that I had to get out of there. Without saying anything I attempted to shimmy myself back over to the ski lift but as I raced over to safety I looked over my shoulder and sure enough Gavin was right there behind me and quickly gaining way. He got ahold of me and we wrestled in the rough ice layered snow. We fought furiously as I gave effort to escape, though before I knew it, he had gotten his grip and he vigorously pushed me off the pivoting cliff. My heart sank to my stomach and my life quickly flashed before my eyes as I slid face-first down half of the icy run and caught myself in a mogul right on the edge of a cliff.

   I gathered my courage and got up on my skis as my raw face burned with the sharp pain of the ice scraped blisters. I wiped off my bloodshot eyes and looked down at the bottom of the hill to see Gavin hysterically laughing as if he were about to collapse from an asthma attack. I couldn't help but to join him as I broke out with laughter astonished that I hadn't died. After catching my breath, I realized that this feeling of pure adrenaline that I had experienced, it was amazing! I quickly grabbed my poles and threw myself down the almost vertical slanting hill and as I flew through the fluffy powder of the storm with the crisp snowy breeze flowing through my hair soothing my ice burned face, I realized something. This was the happiest experience I've ever felt so alive doing, and I immediately fell in love. As I approached my wide-mouthed cousin waiting for me at the bottom of the hill I sprayed him with my skis covering him with the light fluff and he asked me, “how'd you do that! I've never in my life seen someone start the day barely being able to accomplish a black diamond and then turn right back around and completely shred an expert run like that! You've pretty much become almost as good of a skier as me in a matter of seconds, and I've been skiing expertly my entire life.” He convinced me that I was a natural and that I was destined to ski. I had never agreed with him more, I was destined for this, and in a glimpse of a moment I had found what I truly loved to do, and I never wanted to stop.