Slip Slidin' Away
My friend suggested climbing snowcapped Mt. Hood, Oregon, U.S., and I eagerly agreed. I had heard they recommended climbing up and back before NOON in summertime, but didn't understand why. I also thought it was a bit nannyish about everyone using crampons and ice axes: my bamboo pole and hiking shoes were up to the task!

Turns out, the surface snow melts as the day gets longer. And it was very steep near the top. We reached the peak at about 4 p.m., and the snow was now amazingly slippery.

Heading into the sunset, my friend sat on his ass and slid downhill, stopping with the aid of his ice axe. I tried the same with my ineffectual bamboo pole, lost control, and crashed hard into my friend.

Now I was scared. There was a sharp cliff immediately below us, leading into a crevasse, or "bergschrund," and I was going to die. My friend had absorbed my impact and had saved my life. I immediately called him every foul name I could think of (for having suggested the hike, not for saving my life). A panicky young death is not a pretty death!

After more scary sliding experiments that brought us closer to the brink, I discovered I could roll over, hug the snow, and stop on my own. And I could take tiny baby steps downhill. After an eternity, we got out of there. I apologized to my friend: I would have kissed him, except our tongues and lips were now all sunburnt from the panting and cursing, and neither of us needed more pain.

Evil place: Here is a particularly horrible accident, from 2002, at exactly the same location.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Mon 25 Apr 2005, 6:14, Reply)