Soft fluffy powder blanketed the back country and snowflakes glistened in the sun like diamonds. This ski hill in fact was a diamond in the rough. We  had discovered it a mile out into the woods. I carried my Nordica twin tips and wore my Spy goggles on top of my cherry red helmet, and my dad lugged two shovels behind me. No clouds floated in the sky, which allowed the sun’s radiating heat to be felt.

We began the tedious task of making our miniature terrain park, however all I could think about was doing a 360. My stomach was churning, I was sweating, and the sun was blinding me.  It seemed like we would never finish the jump.  My dad, friend  and I had to keep packing down the snow to make it sturdy, while also making it taller. When we finally finished building the  jump, I stood back and admired our work.  I was ready.

Last year, I started park skiing, with the main goal of doing a 360 off a jump. However, I couldn’t do it. Part of it was fear, part of it was skill, but this year I was going to do it, I just knew. It was almost like fate was whispering to me.

I trudged up the hill skis in hand, and determination in my eyes. I took deep breaths, closed my eyes, then visualized me completing my ultimate goal. I stepped into my skis and started my descent down the hill. Speeding like a jet, I realized I was going too fast, I slowed down and was now in control. The jump approached me, I twisted my arms backward preparing to spin. Springing off the jump, I turned into a vortex violently spinning, like a top. My head spun around.  I committed to doing it, but just before I was about to land, my ski caught. Tops don’t spin forever. I face planted, and ate some snow.

Doubt filled my mind, I couldn’t do it, I was done. Walking up the hill I sat down in the snow with a puff. What was I doing wrong? Thinking back, I remembered what my friend Finn always says, huck it hardcore. That was when I realized what I was doing wrong. In the back of my mind there was fear and hesitation. I just needed to huck it. My friend Mason, who was there by my side,  was giving me tips of how to land.  I was ready!

Standing back up, there was fire in my eyes and I had a new method to the madness. Gliding gracefully like a penguin, I was riding on the wave of confidence. Again the jump neared, except this time I was more prepared. I launched off the jump like a rocket and everything turned to a blur. The world around me spun. Before I knew it I was all the way around. However, this time I lifted up my left ski. Poof! Snow wrapped around me like how a burrito covers chicken. I gazed around, then finally realized what I just accomplished. I did it, I did a helicopter. I heard the cheers from my friend and my father. I grinned larger than the Grand Canyon and an avalanche of relief trampled me. That day I learned that hesitation can lead to failure, but if you take a leap of faith it can pay off. But most importantly I “hucked it hardcore.”