An Epic Skiing Adventure, part two

We rejoin Jellyfish and myself as we ride up the chair lift to the time of our lives.

Midway up the lift, I reached into my pocket looking for a starburst, only to find the Styrofoam safety hik-teeth momma billy done gave me. Sticking them in at just the right moment, so as Jellyfish wouldn't see me, I smiled big at the lift operator at the top and said: "Guess how long its been sense I brushed my teeph?".

Upon noticing this, Jellyfish felt a sudden urge to punch me across the jaw with great force. Good thing I had my safety teeth in or it would have hurt su'm awful. At any rate, once Jellyfish and I had finished our in-depth discussion on what we each considered correct lift operator relations, we proceeded to ski to the next lift at an alarmingly fast rate, which put the idea in our heads that we were ridiculously good skiers. This idea eventually forced us into the decision, which we would have inevitably made anyway, to go for the biggest park on the mountain!

We started off real good; Jellyfish went (straight) through the half pipe while I hit this huge rail (with my left pole). Soon we came to the largest jump on the mountain, from now on to be referred to as “BIG JUMP”. When we came to the place in the trail where offending snowboarders sit and wait for each other to break their necks on “BIG JUMP” before going down themselves, we stopped and just as I opened my mouth to say “we ought not try this” Jellyfish turned backwards on his skis, so as to pay better attention to me, and started sliding backwards. I reached for him but his hand slipped right through my glove, seeing as Jelly had no glove on that hand.

There were no possible means of prevention.

Jellyfish was forced to try the 540-inverted-aerial helicopter-grab move we had discussed on the chair lift. However, noting the terrified look on my friend's face, I made a gut decision when Jelly was halfway between “BIG JUMP” and myself. I decided to ski down as fast as I could, and catch Jelly in mid-air, thereby saving him from his impending destiny of collision with the staircase-rail, which was the only foreseeable landing pad for “BIG JUMP”. As I said, this was a gut decision and should not be scrutinized as if I had time to write an essay on the subject.

Jellyfish had just performed a beautiful, inverted-180 and was on the downwind side of the jump when I flew off it at about 80mph. My cowboy hat and shades had left me long ago, and I was left with only my t-shirt, poles and Bermuda shorts. As I flew over nearly all the trails between “BIG JUMP” and the lodge, a sudden rush of fear gave jolted me with the realization that I might not have a good chance of landing very well, or even surviving this jump.

Since it occurs to me that we have arrived at an entirely non-climactic interval, I think this a good time to end the post.