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Flying High
Stepping out of the ski lodge, the heavily falling Utah snow rested on the top of my helmet. Everyone had burgers in their hands, filling the resort with a greasy essence. My burger tasted cold as I looked at the snow. I was with my Mom, Dad, and my two sisters, Sarena and Brittany. Outside, the snow was so heavy I could not see up the soaring mountains. The chair lifts stayed clear of snow, occupied with bodies. Sitting down on the metal chair, it felt like a sharp bee sting on my butt. Heading to the peak of the mountain looking down, I had one thing on my mind.
At the highest point of the mountain, 10,735 feet, the air was thin, and the snow was thick. Not many people can stand to look down from this height, but it gave me some type of rush. From above, everyone looked like ants. As my Mom, Dad, and I waited for my sisters to join us, we were skeptical of where we were going to go. A map of the mountain caught my eye. My sisters then arrived and had their opinion on where we should go. I also had mine. I suggested that we go down a steep trail that led to a terrain park. As a little kid, all I wanted to do was go on jumps. I was always willing to take the risks, go for big. The thought of my skis resting on the snow the entire way down the mountain did not seem fun to me.
Sarena and Brittany started down the winding trail while I followed close behind them. My parents always took up the rear to make sure I never got left behind, since I was the youngest. The path I chose to take was very similar to that of my sisters’. Through the deepest snow and over as many bumps as we could find. Fear seeped into me as we approached a steep edge, but I continued to follow my sisters. By now, it had stopped snowing, but the hills were slippery. The temperature dropped to 20 degrees. My gloves, hard as a rock, chilled my fingers. My body felt frozen. It was hard for me to move. Coasting down the chilly mountain, we were now approaching the terrain park. It was my time to shine.
My sisters weren’t too fond about going over jumps and impressing other skiers like I was. My goal was just to go for it all and try to make other skiers and my sisters jealous. There was no way I was holding back. While weaving back and forth through the challenging obstacles, Sarena and Brittany skied along the side watching me do what was to them, some embarrassing tricks. I thought I was so cool, grinding all the rails and hitting all the jumps. As I started to pick up speed, I became aerodynamic. The wind swept around me as if I were untouchable. Approaching the end of the terrain park, I set my eyes on a jump I was headed straight for. My sisters had just gone over this jump, meaning I had to do it better than them. With my Mom and Dad close behind me I yelled, “Watch this,”! My arms flailed in the air, and my voice rang loud.
Snow filled every piece of clothing on my body. Luckily, it cushioned my wipeout just enough to ease the pain that was soon to come.
The snow wrapped me up. I had hit the ground so hard I was buried deep into the powdered snow. Brittany came up to me, “How did that feel?”, snow covered my face, so I was unable to respond. Coming off that jump, I knew it wasn’t going to end well. My momentum took me way higher than I expected. Looking at the jump it didn’t look as bad as it turned out to be. From behind, I thought it was a short, doable jump for me. But I was wrong. What I didn’t realize was that it was very steep on the other side. When I launched myself off of it, I wasn’t going to touch the ground for a while. Gravity was not on my side at this point in time. It felt like I was in the air for ages. When I finally reached the ground, I had no control over my body. My skis slammed into the powder and flew off along with my ski poles, that unlatched from my wrist. My family thought it was hysterical. While I lay on the cold snow, all I can hear are their laughs. Thinking about how funny that probably looked, I began to laugh myself.
Trying to gain my breathing back, I asked “Did you see that?”
“Oh, we saw the whole thing.”
Thinking back on my jump, I thought about how awesome it felt to fly in the air. I felt like no one could touch me. It reminded me that no one can ever get in my way. I will always strive for greatness. I will take risks. If those risks don’t work out, I will try again. Catch me flying over jumps, any day. This memory will remind me to go for it all. Even though I failed in the process, I was able to get right back up. I was ready to take on any new challenges.
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Writing memoirs brings out my voice.