October 16, 2017
By JackFeenstra BRONZE, Newfields, New Hampshire
JackFeenstra BRONZE, Newfields, New Hampshire
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

From the crack of dawn, the countdown begins. I get up and prepare myself for what's to come. Lifts just now beginning to warm up, I realize I have to leave. At least 6 inches of powder already lay beneath the well-waxed skis as they slice through the light fluffy powder. Being the first one out of the house reserves you a spot on the first chair. On the lift ride up, no corduroy was visible, everything was white, plain white. The thought that white would be such an amazing color never crossed my mind. The trees had become encrusted in ice and snow after the previous day being dank and soggy. When I arrive at the trailhead a shiver full of thrill goes through my body as the sea of white becomes visible. It’s at this moment that I thrust myself over the initial drop, feeling my skis catch me on top of the powder. On the way down, nothing but me and plain white snow. Clouds of it flying up into the air pelting my cheeks.

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