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Old 18th Feb 2013, 21:19
  #3517 (permalink)  
Danny42C
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Danny Bites off more than he could Chew.

There was, however, one day which will take a lot of forgetting. In the second week, our instructors had turned us loose for a day. It was a nice, quiet morning. After breakfast Willie and I had a good look at the Brévent. From the hotel, it didn't look too bad. Surely, if we were careful........We decided to give it a go (well, you do things like that when you're young, don't you ?)

We rode the T-bars up to the mogul field, then took the little cable car up to the top (we were the only ones in it). Looking down on the ledge, it looked wide enough and not too steep. The car stopped, we got out and put our skis on. There had been a light fall of snow during the night, but no sign of a footstep or ski track - not even the "broad arrow" of a raven. - we were the first ones up there. Small bushes were laden with snow, everything was totally silent and cloud had come down on the mountain top, visibility was about 50 yds.

Following the little piste direction signs, we poled slowly along. After a while the path started to slope down , and a much larger signboard hove in sight, covered in snow. We stopped to knock the snow off with our poles. And then wished we hadn't ! It was an uncompromising:"DANGER DE MORT", below an unpleasantly realistic skull and crossbones.

Gulp....... Had either of us been alone (suicidal in the mountains anyway), I'm sure we would have turned tail and taken the next cable car back (much the same as climbing up to the 5-metre diving board and then cravenly down again). But - "Courage, mes braves !" As neither of us wanted to be the "chicken", and the honour of the rosbifs was on the line, we plodded on. The slope grew steeper, we were skiing now on what seemed to be a dusting of snow over bathroom porcelain. And then we were on the ledge, and fighting for our lives.

The ledge was wide enough, the trouble was that it wasn't level as we supposed, but cambered about 15 degrees down towards the edge over which, hundreds of feet below, waited the mort the sign was talking about. The only possible way to survive was to sideslip for all we were worth. The downward slope increased; we couldn't get enough grip to stop, even though we were on metal edges, but by using all the strength we could muster in our leg muscles we managed to stay on the ledge. How long this struggle went on, and how far the ledge ran, I don't know. It can't have been more than 250 yards, but felt like miles. We hung on and at last the slope slackened and we ran out of the cloud onto the mogul field and came to a halt.

It took about three minutes before we stopped shaking - I'd never had to use my leg muscles so hard and so long since trying to hold a slow Meteor straight on one engine. We slowly poled over to the restaurant. A few early skiers eyed us curiously. Did I hear "espèce d'idiots" muttered ? Didn't matter - even at restaurant prices, we reckoned we'd earned a cognac apiece !

Then we skied slowly and sedately back down to the hotel and spent the rest of the day window-shopping in Chamonix.

Quite enough for the day,

Bonsoir, messieurs,

Danny42C.


I learned about skiing from that.

Last edited by Danny42C; 18th Feb 2013 at 21:23.