I never learned the stopping part. I learned how to point myself downhill, and after that the mountain makes most of the decisions for me.


The hat has two pom-poms on wires. At speed they lean back and I can feel exactly how fast I am going without looking at anything.


I go into the powder head first about once a day. For four seconds the world is white and completely silent. Then I get up and do it again.
Push off before thinking about it. Thinking is what causes falls.
Steep section. The poles are decorative here, I hold them out of politeness.
The turn where I always lose a pom-pom and always find it on the way back up.
Trees left, ice right, a completely reasonable amount of speed in the middle.
Bottom of the run. I stop by sitting down. It counts.