Skiing can become dangerous the higher up you go, it should go without saying.
While others are happier enjoying a simple slope with friends and family, others feel the need to test themselves that little bit more.
Take this guy for example – here you have a man who dares to dream, never settling for the status quo, especially when it comes down to extreme-skiing.
Caught on a helmet camera, this is the shocking moment one punter felt the terrifying brawn of an avalanche in Place Centrale, Etremont.
Watch it here:
Thankfully, he survived. Still, a harrowing watch it has to be said.
I have, for my sins, often gone the extra mile when up in the clouds. A few years ago, I was holidaying with friends in Austria when one morning it was agreed everyone would hit up the St. Anton am Arlberg resort.
I went with them on the blue slope to start off and did a couple of runs. A guy working there came over to me after a while and said ‘Oi mate, no professionals.’ I took my ski goggles off and said ‘I’m not a professional.’ He said ‘You’re not a professional? Well you should be. If I was you I’d head up to the orange slopes,’ which are the highest. I said I wasn’t interested and was merely here for a good time with my friends.
Anyway, there I am an hour later twiddling my thumbs. I decide to head up to them and see what’s going on. I could see everyone watching me from the top of the mountain, which wasn’t any pressure.
A few seconds later and I’m bombing it down. At first it seems to be going well then I suddenly feel the ground collapsing beneath me. It’s an avalanche. My friends are all at the bottom saying ‘If he gets caught up in that he is dead.’ Then I get sucked under, ten maybe twelve-feet deep and they’re saying ‘OK, now he’s definitely dead.’
Then I came out from under it, found my balance, hockey-stopped right in front of them and said, ‘What were you worried about?’
The moral of the story here is know your limits. Not everyone can be as up to speed as some others.
Take care of yourselves and remember, don’t believe any anecdote I tell you.
If you have a story you’d like to tell, contact UNILAD, via [email protected]