“You will find them in the Valley of Death” – he spoke;
A man with a steaming cup, his face hidden in the sun.
“The legendary slopes of gold” – he uttered. “Known to all, tackled by few”
One does not choose her conquest.
And there – thousand miles away from my blender,
My conquest chose me.
“We will do our best” – I exhaled.
There was no time to waste,
As the weather window was not going to wait.
We took our coffees in paper cups,
And left in a joyful rush.
We were excited & sick with anticipation,
As we approached the base camp that night.
The storms engulfed the road,
And we fought relentlessly to move towards the unknown.
We didn’t know, where the road will lead us,
But we had to try for where our destiny was to meet us.
Tired and isolated in the lonely valley we slept,
But ready we were – our legs burning & hearts hoping.
We woke early and packed quickly.
Traversed the empty lands filled with sand,
As the sun lit up the vast colorful lands.
We stood brave at the foothills of majestic slopes,
Walked miles of collapsing sand.
The air was dry and the sun shone bright,
We had to make it all the way through until the night.
We stumbled and struggled and sweated and cursed,
Just to ski those majestic brown slopes.
And there were! Ready to carve!
The slopes were steep and the lines were clean,
We charged down as hard as our minds could reach.
We didn’t stop riding – no way we could !
The gravity of skiing was too powerful to defeat …
The skis, the wind, the skis and the heat …
The slopes are reward for the all the miles we beat…
