Christmas

"Shit, did I miss my alarm? was I dreaming that I missed my alarm? Did I even set it last night? Yeah, of course I set it, I remember seeing that it would go off in four hours. But I think I missed it anyway. Maybe I should check, then I could set it right if it was wrong and can see what time it is now." I open my eyes. It's dark, there's no sound except for my father's snoring. I reach around for my phone and see that it's currently 4:13a.m. "Well I didn't sleep through it, and well, it's set for

6:30a.m. I must have been dreaming, I guess I can go back to sleep for a couple hours..." I close my eyes, relax, and my mind goes blank.

4:30a.m. "Fuck, can't get back to sleep"

4:45a.m. "I wonder what the snow is going to be like over there."

5:00a.m. "I suppose I could pass the time with some phone games if sleep isn't going to happen"

5:30a.m. "God I'm bored, what time was he planning on waking up? isn't this his normal time to be up by now?"

6:00a.m. "Fuck it, I'm taking a shower." I get up quietly, go to the bathroom, and as soon as I'm in the shower, I hear my father get up. Once out of the shower, I sit down at the table with my dad and we sip tea in the dark silence of Christmas morning.

6:45a.m. Two shirts, a sweater, a ski jacket, boxers, a pair of shorts, a pair of ripped up pants, a pair off not ripped pants, belt, bandana (spare in the pocket), goggles, two gloves, two over-sized socks, two shoes. I don't know the conditions out there nor have I even been on a board for two years but hopefully this costume of mine will suffice.

7:10a.m. Panattoni in my mouth, we leave the house. It's dark, it's cold, it's snowing. No one except an occasional snow plow is in the streets. We get to the train station as we begin to see the first signs of dawn. After a complicated exchange involving a 'pain ou chocolat', we finally get our tickets and go wait for our train.

7:41a.m. We board the train, the excitement grows, the snow stops but the temperature remains much to low for comfort.

7:51a.m. We arrive in Aigle. It almost feels like it's getting colder. Less than ten minutes later and we're in the next train.

8:24a.m. Leysin: our destination of the day. A small ski resort town that seems to of forgotten to advertise themselves. We walk the empty streets looking for the ski station. Finding it on the other side of the town, the first thing I see is -6ºC on a nearby billboard. I get my rental board, the boots, the card, and I'm set to go up.

9:30a.m. I slide my card through the machine, walk through the gate, walk up the stairs, and pick a gondala to take me up to the first run. No lines of people; I sit alone for the fifteen minute ride to the top. Looking out the window, I see nothing. I am in a cloud with a visibility of a few feet at best. Then, like god put on his defrosters, I could see everywhere. Below me was a cloud, above me was a cloud, but all around me was miles and miles of snow-covered trees, empty ski slopes, powder.

The second layer of clouds doesn't seem to be as bad as the first. When I leave the gondala, I can see maybe around twenty feet. Irrelevant however, the second I'm on my board going down, I can see my destination, the next lift, but inbetween is a depth-less white plane. I bounce up and down, take drops when least expected, and slow down to dreadful crawls for no apperent reason. I could of closed my eyes and still have gotten the same effect. I manage however to make it to the second lift alive (only three hundread yards away). The second lift isn't as plesent as the first. As I climb higher and higher in altitude, the temperature drops and the humidity increases. The vision stays about the same: if it's not white, I can see it, if it is, it looks flat. 2205 meters high, I am at the top of Chaux de Mont. I look around hoping to get some kind of glimpse of a nice view but all I see is white with the ski lift trailing off into the void. There are no trees, there are no shadows, there's only a cliff to my left and one neon orange stake in the ground to show the boundary. In front all I see is VERY bright white gradating into a darker white which is the sky, there is no seeing the intersection.

"Made it to the top... Well, the only way to relearn is to try right?" I cautiously approach the beginning of what I think is the run."Well, it's been snowing all night last night so at least if I fall it should be powder, not to mention, I shouldn't have to worry about ice or choppy tracks since I'm probably one of the first people to go down today. ...Alright..... Okay.... and go." I point the tip of my board in what seems to be the direction downward. Powder, it feels amazing, I cut through it so easily, the snow flies above my head, I'm in heaven, I hit a chunk of crusted ice, my face hits the ground, I'm back on my feet, I don't care. About halfway down the first run I realize that I'm actually on what seems to be a black (hardest difficulty of ski run), I slow down a little from my speed high and start carving the moguls; it's hell on my knees but the serotonin rushing to my brain says "it's okay, just go." I make it to the mid-mountain lift, I want to go all the way to the bottom. I take greens and blues the rest of the way. I cut in and out of forested trails and wide open valleies. It may have taken a good thirty minutes of ski lifts to get where I was but it was well worth it. I have never been on a run that lasted more than 5-10 minutes; these runs never ended. I finally reach the bottom. Mentally lost in the snow, I dismount my board and go through what had just happened in my mind. The smile on my face is un-concealable, I feel like a four-year-old on Christmas morning. "Heh, it is Christmas." I think to myself.


I spend seven hours in a winter wonderland taking the occasional coffee break to warm up. My last run, exhausted from my day, I decide to mimic my first for good spirt. I have a coffee, get in the gondola, ride to the middle of the mountain, board the 300 yard run to the second lift, and decide, "meh, good enough, i´ll just go down from here." In the last mile strench, I feel as if I am about to collapse. I have completly and efficently used every ounce of my energy. I have a quick flashback to the last time I skied; the hot tub that followed. Unfortunatly there was no hotel we were returning to, two trains and our feet back to the apparment. At least I could catch a little sleep hopefully. I drop off the gear at the equipment shop, notice that the temperature has gone down a degree from our arrival and we start our treck back across the city. When we arrive at the train station, a guy calls us over. "Vin chaud?!?" he says with a smile. We stand around a couldren full of wine and fruit heated by a fire as we wait until the next train. #
"Wish this could happen in the states... Only in Switzerland can you find a guy running around yelling at people to give them free hot wine while they wait for their train."

The trip home becomes a bit of a blur from the combination of fatigue, wine, and the peace of mind from being back on a board. We arrive at the apartment, eat dinner, open presents, and I collapse into my dream-world for the following ten hours.