The snow sparkled under the bright sun. The air, cold and crisp, invigorating his senses. He appeared to move without effort speeding down the side of the snow-clad mountain, his skies carving graceful, sweeping turns on his way to the bottom. The ski run forked, a sign with a large black diamond on one side a blue square on the other, sat squarely in the center. Without hesitation or slowing he turned on to the run with the black diamond. The slope became steeper and filled with moguls. His upper body moving only slightly always facing downhill, his legs moving like pistons, turning between the moguls, absorbing the shocks, his hips and knees twisting one way then another, carving his way down the slope. The ski runs merged back together and he came to a stop his skies throwing up a cloud of snow, as they turned parallel to the hill. Exhilarating.
Breathing heavily for a moment, his thighs burning with exertion, he watched the other skiers moving down the hill. He picked out one figure, a woman, dressed in black bibs her long blonde hair streaming behind her as she skied down the hill. She passed him without a glance, her eyes locked on the slope and the skiers below her. He pushed himself forward, gathering speed, as he moved down the hill again. He was watching when a kid cut in front of her, she turned quickly to avoid running the child down and disappeared in cloud of snow, leaving one ski behind her. He skied over picking up her loose ski on the way, stopping on her downhill side. "That was quite a wipeout. Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied in slightly accented English.
"Here, let me help you up," he said. He helped her get the ski back on and pulled her back on to her feet.
"Thanks," she said. She was attractive and he found her accent intriguing.
"Where were you going in such a hurry," he inquired, unwilling to let this beauty just ski away.
"Oh, I fell at the top and I'm trying to catch up with my friends."
"That's to bad. Why don't I ski to the bottom with you? If your friends aren't there we can ride the lift up together. I'm sure they will be waiting at the top. My name's Kris." She looked him in the eye, in an appraising manner, for a moment.
" Well, I guess that would be alright, but let's hurry."
"Just follow me," he replied. He pushed off down the hill, keeping an eye on her as they sped down the mountain, unconsciously making short turns to keep his speed down so she could keep up with him. They reached the bottom and she looked for her friends.
"What do they look like," he asked.
"Well, she is going to be hard to spot, she's only 5' tall. She's wearing peacock blue bibs, has dark hair and sunglasses. Her boyfriend is almost 6' though," she said absently, her eyes roving over the people in the lift line.
"Let's get in line and maybe we can spot them from the lift," he suggested. The line moved quickly and soon they were on their way back to the top of the mountain. They chatted as the lift bore them upwards. He learned her name, Ingrid. She was from Norway, which explained her accent, and she was on a short ski vacation with her friends from France. They were staying in the ski village, just a stone's throw away from the lifts. He spent the morning skiing with her as she searched for her friends on the slopes of Copper Mountain. She was a pretty good skier, although she didn't like the mogul fields that were his first love.
"Did you make plans for lunch with them?" he asked.
"We were going to eat in the lodge around noon."
"Well, why don't we take a break and see if you can spot them from the deck, you may never find them on the mountain," he suggested. They found a table in the sun on the deck overlooking the lift lines. He went inside for hot chocolate and returned with it to the table. "This is better at apre ski," he mentioned. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, he continued, "That's when it is spiked with rum, just the thing to relax with after a hard day on the slopes." They sipped their hot chocolate relaxing in the warmth of the noon sun.
"Ingrid!" came a woman's voice from behind him, "We have been looking all over for you!"
Ingrid stood up and the two women hugged. "Cheri, this is Kris. He was kind enough to keep me company this morning," said Ingrid. Cheri smiled at him.
"Well, now that you have found your friends, I should be off," he said
"You don't want to eat with us?" frowned Ingrid.
"I don't usually eat lunch, it's the best time of the day to ski," he replied, "But, I'll join you if you want me to."
"Yes, please do," smiled Ingrid. So he sat through lunch with Ingrid, Cheri and Raul. They chatted amicably as they ate. This was their first time skiing in Colorado and he regaled them with tales of the state and where to ski as only a local can know. It was a pleasant lunch and all to soon it was over. He excused himself when they were done.
"I'm heading over to the bowls on the south side, I've been meaning to try that for some time and they're not open all the time," he told them, "But, maybe I'll see you at apre ski here. If not have good time on your ski trip." He left them, reluctantly, and waved to them from the lift line as they sat in the afternoon sun on the deck.
He skied hard that afternoon, images of Ingrid drifting through his head as he skied the diamonds and double diamonds in the Resolution Bowl. A few hours later he headed back to the north side, skiing down to the lodge as the lifts closed one by one behind him. He was tired and considered just leaving on the two-hour drive home without stopping in the lodge. But, it might be nice to see Ingrid again and his steps turned from the parking lot to the lodge. He went inside and scanned the slowly filling room. No sign of them. Hoping that they would appear shortly he grabbed a table big enough for four, ordered drinks and appetizers and watched the door. The trio entered just as the waitress brought the drinks and food. He waved and got Ingrid's attention. Her face blossomed with a smile and they joined him.
"Did you have good time skiing today," he asked them.
"Oh, yes but some of the runs are very long and steep and my legs are sore," replied Ingrid.
"True. I'm sore too, lots of work skiing the bumps," he replied, "I'm in need of a massage now."
"Oh, that would be nice," agreed Ingrid.
"I'm pretty good at that. My sister is a massage therapist, she has taught me a thing or two so I can give her massages," he replied, "To bad there's no place around here to do that though."
"Our room is plenty big," said Ingrid, "We can do it there."