First Post

The wind whips across the top of the cornice, making my ski pants crackle and snap. Although down at lodge level, people are out in their short sleeves soaking up the early spring sun, up here on this ridge, I am shivering. Maybe its the cold wind or maybe its the fact that I can see the bottom of the run between my skis, right about where my toes end. The rest of my skis jut out over the edge. The run is called Idiot's Delight, and the reason I am up here is to give my father his sixtieth birthday present. I take a deep breath, say "Happy Birthday Dad," and push off into thin air...