Skiing

First Place, teens' essays

Kiana Keleher Jupiter |

12/18/2008 - 12/19/08

I sped down the icy slope, the chill wind biting my nose. All too soon, I reached the bottom and collapsed into the soft snow.

My mother and I were skiing with friends in Colorado. We planned to ski to a cabin on top of a mountain and spend the last two days of the year there.

I inhaled a deep breath, the scent of pine needles filling my nose. Our trail was surrounded by enormous trees, their branches heavy with white powder. Behind us, massive mountains rose, their snow-capped peaks nearly hidden with clouds. A sudden flurry of snow whirled around us, and I put out my tongue to
taste it.

We skied all day and finally came to a very steep hill, alongside which ran a frozen stream. The hill seemed to go on forever. We were not even a third of the way up when we began to feel exhausted.

Around midday, we stopped to eat. We found a large hollow log at the edge of a cliff overlooking a frozen pond many feet below. The bright sun shone on the pond's icy surface, making it look like an extravagantly cut diamond. It was the perfect place to have a picnic.

Finally, after several hours of skiing uphill, we caught a glimpse of a cozy little cottage in a grove of trees sparkling with snow. We all cheered up and nearly forgot how tired we were when we saw how beautiful the area was.

You can imagine after climbing such a big mountain how high up we were. We were atop the highest peak of that mountain range and could see for miles all around us. We could see big gray boulders with bits of lichen clinging to them and delicate green trees that added splashes of color to the landscape. Everything was topped with snow so bright it hurt my eyes to look at it.

The cabin was small but perfect. It had a little wood stove in the middle and beds that were made out of strong pine branches. The beds were covered in cheery red mattresses, and there were two windows that looked as though they had been painted by an extremely talented artist.

We made dinner on the wood stove, and even though the meal was simple, it tasted delicious. This was because of our long ski and the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere in a cozy cabin.

That evening we amused ourselves by reading the guest books that people like us had written in about their trips up to the cabin. Most of the entries acted like they had just climbed Mount Everest. Later, we played cards and talked. Close to the end of the evening, we started to get very silly. I was really enjoying myself, and I decided I wanted to live up there.

When it got really dark, we put on our warmest clothes and went outside. The moon was big and bright, and it cast such a glow that we could just make out one another. The stars resembled glitter that had been tossed carelessly onto a piece of black paper. Our warm breath made little clouds of steam in the frigid air. It made us look like dragons puffing smoke. When our fingers and toes began to get numb, we went inside.

I chose a bed by one of the windows, and before I went to sleep, I watched more twinkling stars appear and the moon rise higher in the sky. Sleeping near the window was not without its disadvantages, though. I woke up the next morning covered in snow.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes as I shook the snow off my sleeping bag and looked out the window. The view was just as beautiful as ever, except now it had the added beauty of the sunrise. It was interesting to see such a striking landscape at different times of the day. The changes were subtle, but they transformed the mountain into something else each time.

We headed down the mountain around noon. Unlike the trip up, going down did not take half the day. Skiing downhill is always the most fun, and this was a steady trip down for about half an hour.

With the wintry air turning our noses and cheeks various shades of pink, we plowed through the soft white powder. It was a trip to remember.