An Epic Skiing Adventure, Part Three

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 jolted me with the realization that I might not have a good chance of landing very well, or even surviving this jump. - An Epic Skiing Adventure, Part Two

As I soared through the air, a thought occurred to me. What had become of my good pal Jellyfish? I'd seen him perform his near perfect inverted 180, but after that I had no idea how he'd faired on "Big Staircase" (the only foreseeable landing pad for "Big Jump"). So naturally, I was worried.

Now it turns out that Jellyfish, upon leaving the lip of the jump, realized he had not taken a good look at the landing pad. In his effort to look down and plan his landing, Jell ended up pointing his head in that very direction. The fact that he was still facing backwards with his head turned to see where he was going caused his whole body to suddenly spin back around. He was nearing the ground when one of his skis nicked a rail and the momentum sent him flying towards the side of the run where he hit an especially soft and deep snowbank, and climbed out perfectly fine.

I however, did not know this. So with all my might I tried desperately to turn myself around in mid-air to look for him. However, because of the near 50-mph winds and my velocity of 80-MPH, my efforts did not command the desired result, but did prove to change my course in a direction aiming strait for the lodge. At this point, seeing the advantage of the high-speed winds involved, I held out my arms and legs in an effort to increase my surface area in order to decrease my velocity & impending collision with the northeast wall of the lodge. My method worked to some degree, but having misjudged my exact elevation, & ability to increase my surface area, I ended up having to performing a second jump (off the roof of the lodge), sending me a further 20-ft or so.



Aiming for the passenger seat of a comfortable looking red convertible, I unsnapped my skis, threw them in the back seat, and landed (with only slight discomfort) next to a formidable looking businessman in a ski-suit and tie with a fresh steaming-hot cup of jelly in my cup holder. Speaking of jelly, my thoughts immediately turned to my trusty friend...



Jellyfish, having been witness to this entire streak of uncanny luck, and observing that in at least one area the snow-bank had risen high enough to reach the roof of the lodge, endeavoured to attempt a similar feat. It was imperative that the driver of the said convertible should stop, giving Jellyfish a steady landing pad. This he did, and Jellyfish, having securely stowed his ski's in the same seat I had, landed (with a thud) in the seat directly behind me. Although we both suffered some minor back injuries from our respective landings, we still had an enjoyable time on the way home, recounting our recent events with our new found Chauffeur, the good businessman Mr. James Clydesdale from Buckingham Massachusetts.