I wonder how Madison and the girls are doing.
Clicking out of my board, I prop it in the stand, remove my gloves, and walk into the bar for a much-needed drink. Hopefully I’m not last and won’t be buying. I stop inside the door, allowing my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. A group of excited teenagers jostle me as they pass in bright-colored jackets, strutting awkwardly in their heavy ski boots. Each step a thud on the wooden floor like the worst choreographed marching band and adding to the general noise.
This bar is even busier than the one at Snowmass. I look across the heads of a couple of people that have just stopped in front of me and spot Blake; I work my way over to him. He is leaning at the end of the bar, and when he sees me, a huge grin spreads across his face. He’s the obvious winner of our race, but I don’t see Scott anywhere, and I’m pretty sure I beat him. We are all experienced riders, but I have the home advantage of knowing these slopes like I do the streets of Manhattan.
Blake slaps me on the back as I reach him. “Well done. I was counting on you beating Scotty. That guy has been whipping my ass in our park runs lately, and I felt the need for a bit of payback.”
I do like hanging out with these guys. I may not have been in the military like they were, but I’m naturally as competitive and athletic as they are, so I fit right in.
Minutes later, Scott joins us, covered in so much snow he looks like the infamous yeti. We both take one look at him and laugh so hard I need to hang on to the edge of the bar. He obviously took a tumble in the powder and has carried half of it down the mountain with him. In the heated bar, it begins to run in rivulets down his face and body, forming a puddle at his feet. He looks ridiculous, but Blake won’t let that stop him from gloating that the drinks are on Scott tonight. Scott takes it all in his stride, not even complaining too much when Blake and I insist on the most expensive whiskey they sell.
Cassie and Luke arrive next, with Jasmine not long after, then Bec. My eyes instantly search out Madison in the crowded bar, as I expect she isn’t too far behind the other girls. The others grab a table, and as I return from the bar with Scott, I ask Jas if she’s seen her.
“No, I haven’t. She should have been here by now, as we were all at the top of the home run together.”
Cassie pulls her cell from her pocket and starts scrolling, then looks up, concern darkening her blue eyes. “Mads texted to say she’s having trouble with her binding a bit below the Little Nell lift.”
I instantly jump up. “Okay, let her know I’m on the way.” Cassie looks unsure, but I’m already pulling my jacket and gloves back on. “Just tell her. I have to hurry, as the lift is due to close soon.”
I push my way through the people before bursting out of the bar, grabbing my board, and running to the lift as fast as my boots allow. Luckily I make it in time, as the lift operator confirms he was just about ready to close it down. The snow is falling fast now. Even in the fifteen or so minutes I’ve been inside the bar, the conditions have worsened. The predicted storm has arrived. And fuck, it’s cold.
On the lift, I check my cell, and there is a text from Cassie confirming Madison is to the right of the slope and about halfway down. I wish the damn lift would go a bit faster, but as it sways from another gust of wind, I’m just glad it’s still running.
Finally at the top, I quickly clip back into my board and traverse across to the slope that will take me down to where Madison is stuck. It’s only a few minutes later when I see her to the side of the slope, the yellow marking on her jacket clearly visible through the gray fog. I move quickly over to the lone figure sitting on the snow, hunched over her bent knees.
“Hey, Mads. Are you okay?”
She looks up, and I wish I could see her eyes behind the goggles. “Yes, I’m fine … apart from freezing my ass off on this mountain …” She waves her hand frantically at her boot and board, saying, “The stupid thing is broken, and I can’t do it up … I was going to just start walking down when Cassie texted to say you were coming to my rescue … again.”
I have to smile at her display of bravado and independence. I really like the way she seizes life by the balls, no matter the circumstances that are thrown at her. And she does seem to find herself at the center of some unusual situations.
“We can talk about that later because the priority here is getting you off this increasingly cold mountain before we’re the only ones left.”
Her head turns up, then down the slope. “Where has everyone gone?” she asks, not having realized until now that it’s really only us left. From the chairlift, I’d noticed a couple of groups of skiers and boarders still going down, so I guess she hasn’t been alone for long.
“Probably somewhere warm, and we should be doing the same.”
“Well, it’s not like I want to be here freezing … This stupid damn strap is broken.” She tugs at the offending piece of plastic.
I lean over her to get a closer look and notice her sharp intake of breath. “Here, let me have a look because I don’t like the idea of us having to walk down.”
Another gust of wind hits us, and she tucks her chin down low, bringing her head closer to mine. “Hey, Jarrod, thanks for coming to help me.” The hitch in her voice again has me wishing I could see her eyes, as I expect Madison is not feeling as brave as her words indicate.
“It’s my pleasure, and you can thank me later. Damn, it’s fucking freezing up here.” My words bring a soft giggle from her before she falls silent and lets me work on fixing the strap.
“It looks like the ladder on the strap has iced up. It happens when there’s a lot of powder snow.” I point to the strap, which has ice completely covering the ridges. “See, this here is the problem. I don’t think it’s broken.”
From my pocket, I pull a small scraper and begin to remove the ice from each of the ridges in the ankle strap. “There, that should do it,” I tell her as I help her to stand. Then I push her boot back into the binding, slide the now cleared ladder into the buckle of the ankle strap, and tighten it up before doing the same with the toe strap.
“Does that feel okay? Not too tight?”
“Yes, thank you, Mister Boy Scout … Are you always so prepared for emergencies?”
“If you mean do I always carry a repair kit, then yes, I do. But as far as being prepared for what you are going to say next, then never.”
She throws her head back, laughing, and I’m not sure if she’s really that amused or if it’s relief at having her binding fixed.
It hasn’t taken long for me to get Madison up and ready again, but with another of those fierce gusts of wind that blows snow from the nearby slopes at us, we’re reminded that we need to get off this mountain.
