This is hopefully one of a few stories I have this week
Back in 05 when I lived in France working as a transfer driver in a ski resort, I did a lot of snowboarding.

Every day I'd be out on the slopes messing around and generally improving my skills. I was getting better and better over the weeks and decided to step it up a bit and start Acid dropping and cliff jumping. I started off small and learnt how to control the landings, how not to overshoot and how to land in powder and keep on moving.

I gradually increased the heights until I was going for about 15 feet. After a few attempts I got it right and was having a whale of a time! I then had a mad idea, why not pop over to the other side of the valley and try one I'd seen a few other people working on?

I raced over there, full of spirit and willing to fling myself off anything! I rode up to the top and looked over the edge, there was some lovely fluffy white powder for me to aim for.

I scooched up the hill and pointed to the drop. Next thing I knew I heard someone shouting - a bloke was frantically waving at me from a bit higher up the slope; he skidded to a halt next to me and in explained that the direction and "drift" I was heading for was actually a pile of rocks.

If it hadn't been for that lovely French bloke I would have ended up with broken legs, back or worse. He pointed me in the right direction off the drop (which I didn't want to do anymore) and sped away.

So cheers French bloke, you probably saved my life and my season at the same time. I never even caught your name.
(Himjim died a little more inside on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 11:42, 1 reply)

Yay!
Ten points to the lovely French man!
( Cawl, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 12:01, closed)