Fear

I can feel it coming. The chattering of my skis on the hardpack and my weight distribution tell me something's off. The crash is seconds away. Then it's not; chop my speed, lean forward, whatever it takes to keep riding the edge of control. There's an excitement and joy in being so close to losing control. This is the stuff that spawns adrenaline junkies.

I've never thought of myself as a thrill-seeker, but as I delve further into the world of skiing I find myself constantly striving for fear. I look for the point where my heart starts racing faster, I start breathing heavier, I don't want to make that next turn; then I push myself through. To borrow the name of the award-winning documentary, I'm tempting fear. I think this is a driving force for anyone in a sport like this. Rock climbers don't allow themselves to plateau (get it?), but constantly look for harder lines and steeper climbs. The same is true for skiers, and unfortunately for both groups this leads to dangerous and sometimes fatal situations.

The problem is people lose respect for the fear. The danger in pursuing perfection in any of these sports is it takes more and more to scare you into turning back. There's a balance that must be reached. The mountain has no respect for you; it doesn't care if you live or die, and nothing will change that. We need to maintain respect and fear of the mountain enough to be able to tell the tale of conquering that sweet line. Just because you make the climb doesn't mean you need to take the plunge, but sometimes people forget that.

Next time your ski bros convince you to do something stupid and you reap the consequences, will the adrenaline rush worth it? Fear is what makes skiing exciting, without it you're just strapping two planks to your feet and falling down a hill while wearing one of the least comfortable contrivances for feet ever invented.