“Kaboom!” My snowboard smacks the ground, making the snow whack my face. The wind is making me go faster and faster. I keep my knees bent to gain speed. The wind is moving me along like a sailboat. The thrill sets in. I switch between toe turns and heel turns within every second. My snowboard paints a squiggly line behind me as I make my way to the bottom. The snow is whipping at my goggles, creating harsh visibility. I try to slow down by scraping my hand against the ground. The snow glistens in the light, reminding me of fairy dust. I listen to the wind howl like a wolf. The cold creeps into my gloves and crawls up my arms; it doesn’t bother me, it encourages me to keep going.

I see an upcoming bump, and I don’t have enough time to stop myself. I hit a chunk of snow and lose my balance. I land butt first on the rock hard ground, both of my wrists stopping me. The pain in my wrist causes me to stop for a moment, but I push myself back up. I wipe the snow from my goggles with my gloved fingers that act as windshield wipers. I jump to turn my board to face straight down, and I take off. I notice other people who are laying on the ground. I stop and ask if they are okay, and they tell me that the snow made it too difficult to see. I, on the other hand, am determined to keep going. The blizzard is not going to stop me. I strap my foot in, wipe my goggles, and I am off.

“Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh,” my board moves back and forth. I know this mountain inside and out; every turn, every hill. I notice an upcoming rail, and I immediately want to ride it. My board glides across it. I finally reach the bottom; I feel a sense of accomplishment overfill me. The snow falls down even harder; it’s like it’s cheering and congratulating me. I feel proud of myself for finishing. I unstrap my right foot, snowboard over to the chair lift, and get right back on.