This story is about the time when the snow broke me. I know how that sounds. How could powdery snow break one of my bones? Well, then listen in. (Disclaimer: This story happened to my Dad and not me, but I will still talk in the first person.) 

It was a bright sunny morning. The sun was shining on the snow, making the snow sparkle as you looked at it. The only thing that made skiing this morning uneasy was that it was very chilly which will make the snow hard like ice. If you have never skied or snowboarded before, what happens when the snow is hard like ice, is it becomes hard to stop and it sounds like your board or skies are being scratched up. It is a horrible sound, in my opinion. 

That day, I went to Timberline Lodge to ski on Mt. Hood in Oregon. Since it was early in the morning, I was planning on going to a nice and easy blue trail. This trail was known for its nice, beautiful mile-long trail going by the tall and glorious trees. The trees look so magnificent in the morning because of all the snow piles on top of them, and the sun shines on the snow. I loved going in the very early morning for a few reasons. First, nobody skies this early, so I would have most of the run to myself. The second reason is that the run is very smooth because not many people have used it. The reason it is so smooth is that there are trucks that smooth out the runs every night leaving the snow to seem brand new. When people get there early, they can slide right through the newly grated snow, and they can hear the nice swoosh, as they descend down the mountain. 

As I got onto the lift that morning, I could feel the crisp air blowing on me, as I ascended up the mountain. It is also amazing to look behind at the marvelous view. The view looks like a perfect painting made by the legend, Bob Ross himself.  Finally, I got off the lift to the side and got ready for my first run through the trail. I made sure my boots were clicked in the skis and that my helmet is secured. I pulled up my balaclava, which is a type of mask for skiing that keeps your head warm, and started going down the slope. Since the trail was nice and long, it didn’t have much of a slope, and I loved speeding down it. It felt as if I was going a million miles an hour when in actuality it was only like 35 miles an hour. I loved the adrenaline that rushed through me when speeding down the mountain. I began bolting by the trees and the poles of the lift. 

Then suddenly, I missed a turn! This morning, the crew had not yet plowed the area where you go straight, so there were basically moguls everywhere. So here, I was speeding down the mountain with this unplowed area, it was a recipe for disaster.  Then it happened, I hit a humongous bump and went skidding on the ground yards from where I slipped. I was lying on the ground with my arm throbbing. I had broken my arm! I looked up and saw some people on the lift. They yelled down and asked if I needed help. My arm hurt so bad that I quickly said yes, and they sent down the ski patrol. They put me on the hard plastic board and skied me down to the lodge. 

Since there was no hospital up here, and I took the ski bus, I had to wait until the ski bus came back at 4 o’clock. All the ski patrol gave me was a sling for my arm and some ice. So all day I sat in the lodge waiting for the ski bus. Oddly enough, no more than half an hour later, another guy came in with a sling but on the other arm. He came here on the ski bus, as well. So it was him and me waiting all day for the ski bus. In addition, since we had opposite arms broken, people asked all day as they walked by,  “Did you guys hit into each other or something?'' This was pretty hilarious and annoying at the same time. Finally, when the ski bus came, I got on it. When I got home, I went straight to the hospital to have it be checked out. Overall, what I learned from this experience was that you should be more careful when doing sports or just skiing because you can get seriously injured and there are funny moments in our hard times.