This is a story in my uncles perspective and he told me it so i decided to write a slice! My next post will be about this as well
I
can barely bear the rough winds and crisp snow be ating my face. Each minute
gets colder; I get further into my sleeping bag burrowing deeper and deeper.
That was one of the times that I remember when I thought I wouldn’t live. It
was so cold I don’t know how I survived.
Our
adventure in Aspen, Colorado started on February 19th of 1993, when me, my girlfriend and
five other acquaintances, two women and three men went on a trip backcountry
skiing. I never really got to know any of the people before the trip started.
We slowly walked up the mountain, I kept peeking my head up looking for the
hut. It felt so good to finally get to the hut. After our dinner I rushed to my
room because I was so tired.
I woke up
was for an amazing day. I knew there was sick fresh powder on the mountain
because I could see all the snow piled on the tops of the fresh green trees.
Today I wanted to be the leader but they elected one of my friends.
I knew I had a way better sense of direction then him. The day was
amazing until the last run. We went to the top of the mountain and we didn’t
know what direction to go in. I noticed that our leader led us in the wrong
direction. We argued on which direction to go in but we decided to sleep there
for the night and decide in the morning.
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