Head on Collision.

Most people don’t equate the words:

HEAD ON COLLISION

with possibly the greatest night of their lives.

But then most people are not Ethel Ray and Veramitch ….

So, deal with it.

This scary and marvelous tale all started on a fine and semi-warm winter day. A group of our very best friends decided to have an adventure in the mountains. The adventure was to include food, friends, games, good times & SNOWBOARDING!

Ethel Ray & Veramitch are very good with food, friends, games and good times. So, we were sure we would be equally great at SNOWBOARDING!

(The overestimation of our own abilities is often the beginning of a very embarrassing story … the kind that never dies)

Our good friends gave us detailed and very professional (not) hands on training ... in the car … on the ride up the mountain. There was much talking and terminology that reminded us a lot of [fill in that class in high school where the lectures meant absolutely nothing to you]. Stoically, we nodded our heads, pretending to understand, because really, 

HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO SLIDE DOWN A HILL ON A BOARD?

We were about to find out.

Chapter 1: The Bunny Hill

Confidently we strode to the counter where the workers strapped our boards on and sent us on our way. We may have looked clumsy as we grasped for anything to balance, but as we began to hop and scooch on our boards, we honestly were thinking: 

"Hot Dang, we have got this in the bag."

    

 A slight incline approached, feeling confident both of us went for it, loosing complete control of the board beneath us & pretty literally our own bodily functions.  

Our confidence turned to terror as we began to liberally take part in gravity. Our butts which we believe were created for the purpose of sitting in chairs had never experienced this kind of downhill pummeling. By the time we reached the bottom of the run called “bunny hill,” we were bruised, broken (or at least cracked), flat on our backs, with hearts pounding, about ready to burst right out of our chests. As we laid there determining if death would be better than trying to stand up again…

A group of our friends appeared at our side, laughing hysterically at the absurdness that we were and not fully appreciating our impending death. The boys picked us up off the ground & announced that we were ready for the big slopes...

"Are you kidding me??"

Chapter 2: The ski lift

For those who have never been on a ski lift we wish to warn you that for us it could have just as easily been called “cruel & unusual punishment.”

We decided to go last. That way we could have a good idea of what to do by watching them go before us.  They boarded the lift with confidence & ease.

Simple, we got this.

The couple right before us went & then it was our turn.  We were not ready by any means.  The man running the lift started to wave us over, as if we had to hurry.

We stood there.  Blank stares.

Finally he yelled,"HURRY!!"

It clicked. We started to scooch, swiftly & wobbling.

We reached the loading zone, still trying to stand upright,

then we were nearly taken out by the chair, we slammed into the seat entangled in each other, screaming.

No one had told us there was a bar that you could pull down in front of you to ensure that you didn't fall to your death …so we sat there, sprawled out, scared out of our minds, & still embracing one another in an awkward fashion.  No words came from our mouths, our heads looking straight down at the ground that got further & further away gave room for only fear to talk, which came out as mumbles that could have been interpreted as:

"Oh crud, I want to live, I'm going to fall out, no, no, I'm fine...we're fine."

We start to untangle our arms & legs from their uncomfortable placement.  We looked at our surroundings. Looking directly forward we see that our group has all their eyes glued on us, with big grins stretching from ear to ear. Trying hard to hold back their obvious laughter.

 This was not funny. 

They gestured for us to reach up & grab something.  The safety bar. Immediately we grabbed it & pulled it over us.  It was a little more comforting knowing that we had something holding us down. 

We were on the final stretch of cable when we realized that we had to get off this contraption.  We thought that we would ask for help so we started to yell toward the chair in front of us as well as the one behind for some pointers.  There was no sympathy for us.

"You just....get off, duh."

The sarcasm was greatly unappreciated.

 We tried to watch as the people got off before us, but there was a slight problem...as they got off the lift the chair covered their technique & well, all of them.  We were at a loss. 

The exit was coming closer, we angled ourselves, tilted the boards, hit the exiting path...

& biffed it… Hard core.

Tumbled down the pathway, head over heels.

Once we could see straight.  The slope was calling our names.

Without any question we were off sailing through the snow.

& by sailing, we mean head first, falling over, eating the snow, & our boards never really even touched the powder.

We made it down the whole hill like that.

Lets do it again!!

Chapter 3: Don’t spit into the wind

We worked our way to the lift.  Now knowing what to expect we felt confident & ready.

It was still just as terrifying.

We saw people down below that we knew. We began talking to them. Eventually that led into a competition of if we could spit on them.

We tried.

  Ethel Ray took the first opportunity off the front.  It would have hit them if it wasn't for the wind.  We were directly over them now; they thought they were safe, little did they know that Veramitch was in the process of collecting enough spit to do a surprise attack off the back.

  Veramitch flung her head back with force, about knocking the chair completely over,

she spat & a massive amount of saliva came out, more than we had ever seen before, it flew back & missed the memo where it was supposed to hit the friend below;

instead, it spread out & encompassed the entire face of Veramitch.  Her eyelashes became one lash. The spit started to crystallize on her face.

It was everywhere.

We had been defeated; little did they know it was by a faulty projecting of the spit...we got over it.

 This time on the way up we were alone so no one could possibly make fun of us or try to make us do it the "right way".  We thought up an ingenious plan of action.  We would do what we do best...

Chapter 4: Sledding.

Once we biffed it down the exit ramp again. We unfastened the snowboard from our feet,

laid them side-by-side on the ground,

tied ourselves together with the scarves we had on,

sat on the boards & we were off.

It was possibly the best idea we have ever had. We were soaring past everyone at lightening speed.

Having the best time of our lives.

Icy winds breezing through our hair.

bodily fluids were being froze to our faces.

Tears of joy & laughter.

You honestly don't know how much fun it was, until we figured that we had to...well, stop.

Crud.

How do we stop??

We began to panic. We only had so much time till we reached the bottom.

Without any thought we both slammed our outside foot into the snow.

This sent us into a state of a snow tunnel vortex of doom.

The tears of joy & laughter became tears of fear.

We couldn't see where we were going or where anyone was, let alone breathe properly.

The knot that tied us together was being pulled tighter & tighter making it hard to undo so that if we bailed, it would not cause too much harm to one or the other of us.  Through the pounding snow vortex, we were able to slip out of the harness of scarves & separate to land on our own. 

Veramitch landed in a nearby ditch.

Ethel Ray landed in a snow bank.

Both head first, stuck in the snow.

Once reunited, we were a blessed sight, something you might find in a dream actually.

Our ponytails were solid sticking horizontally off the side of our heads.

snot, slobber, tears & drool were now icicles protruding off of our faces.

& needless to say we were wet from head to toe.

Freezing.

Even though it was excruciatingly painful,

we continued to do it all throughout the remainder of the night.

Some might call it stupid.

Our friends might call it crazy.

We call it pure bliss.

We are individualist...we do what we want.