The National Geographic Moment
By ALFONSO REDONDO

Every day this week we awoke to fresh powder, and today at St. Anton was no different. The higher we went up the lift, the foggier it got. Once we reached the top we couldn't see two meters in front of us. My friend screamed for us to get going. Not really knowing what was around me, I tried to keep my eye on the red jacket.

Despite the fog I managed to see a ridge to my right that looked fresh. I wanted to get the first turns of the day, so I figured I would catch up to him at the bottom. A few turns later, and a smile on my face, I was at the bottom. I waited there for quite a while but he never came. All I wanted to do was get back up there, so I phoned him from the lift. He never answered, and so I was on my own.

I skied all day without stopping, but soon I grew tired of the same runs. The powder became not-so-fresh. So I decided to venture farther. I took a right into the forest and continued until there was no sign of people. There I was at the top of this sparkling sheet of white beauty. I knew before I dropped in that it would be the best run I'd ever had.

I took a deep breath, cleared my skis of snow, and dropped. Each turn was effortless. I cruised to the bottom and my face was burning. I looked up and saw my tracks, but I noticed mine weren't the only ones. Right beside them were what looked like paw prints. I looked to my left and there was a fox immersed in snow, standing and watching. We stared at each other for a long time, then he turned and disappeared into the forest. I headed the other direction, but we both went to find the same thing: fresh powder.


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