Facing Fears – Head On

That late August morning, I had misjudged where I was and had taken one turn too many as I arced turns of white dusty chalk promptly proceeding to be bluffed and launched at pace off the precipice of Chute 7 at the very top of Treble Cone's Motatapu Chutes having had zero intention of going in there that day. Without any intention of being where I was, I embarked on the ultimate tuck-n-roll extravaganza over anything and everything in my path to come to a stop no less than 450 vertical metres below where I had unintentionally launched.

In full yard sale style, by the time I had ground to a halt I was minus anything that could be ripped off with the impact including goggles, gloves, poles and skis.