It had snowed all day long and the cold was exceptionally severe. But I was so fond of skiing that I couldn't stop myself carrying on skiing down the snowy slopes that afternoon. And the advantage of the bad weather was that there were much less skiers on the pistes.
I was also enjoying this quasi-unreal atmosphere of the "white" days. At times I wasn't even able to see the piste and I had to ski down blindly, legs supple to absorb hidden moguls, my senses on alert to avoid an unexpected hollow, a rock or just to find the run again that I had lost without even noticing it.
I had decided to complete that day with a flourish by doing my last descent from the summit of the mountain, at the altitude of 10,500 feet.
I was alone, as my friends had preferred to stay in the warm of their chalet instead of braving the freezing cold of that afternoon. But I didn't care about it.
I never had a real lover and I dreamed of meeting the right kind of wild romantic person I had in mind. I was a romantic girl but all the affairs I have had, never reached beyond a purely sexual stage. In short, at 26 years old, however being rather attractive and moreover rich, I was lonely, a situation that my friends were unable to understand.
My beauty and my wealth, far from being an advantage, had turned out to be a real handicap for my love life. Men were wooing me, whether for my money, whether for my body or worse, for both of them. My personality and soul felt as if it was never considered.
Love, a real and sincere love was still unknown to me and I was thinking that I would end up as an old maid. In fact, sometimes I felt as if that might be a better option rather than have to put up all my life with somebody that wouldn't be really in love with me. However, lets continue;
First, I took a little téléférique (a cable car) which brought me halfway up the mountain. From there, I had to take a big cablecar, able to transport up to 100 skiers at once. Only top skiers were taking that cablecar as the descent of the black piste was almost impossible for the average skier.
Like me, all the other skiers in the cablecar wanted to brave the bad weather, to do that precise descent in these hard conditions, it was a challenge, like a target against oneself that we wanted to hit.
As the cablecar was rising, the physical landscape was changing. The mist began to surround us. We were now inside the bottom of the cloud that was caught at the summit of the mountain.
The atmosphere became more and more sinister and I would have loved so much to cuddle up against the chest of a strong man who would have been very glad to comfort me in his arms, to show me his male self-confidence, to protect me. But I was alone in the corner of this big cablecar, and the only woman among all of the skiers.
We had just arrived at the summit of the mountain, at the altitude of 10,500 feet. We could hear the wind whistling around us and the snow was whirling with fury, slapping and scratching the windows of the cablecar. The temptation to remain sheltered behind the windows seemed a safer option, but the short journey was over and we had to leave the cablecar to face the cold wind and the snow-storm.
I felt as if I was in a horror movie. The wind was blowing with such violence that I could hardly speak. As soon as you tried to open your mouth, the draught rushed in that you couldn't breathe anymore. The screech of the wind was also deafening. Everyone just lowered their heads, mouths closed, lips tightened, arms along the body, shielding themselves. We all left the cablecar, bracing ourselves to walk the hundred yards that were separating the arrival platform from the beginning of the black piste. The wind was stinging our faces, freezing our skin.
I was gripped by this vision that it was the end of the world. The cablecar left us to return to the ski resort, it was 5:00 pm and it was its last return trip for the day. We had no other way to get back to the resort, only to take our skis and try to ski down through the murky fog.
The metallic pylons that held up the wire cables of the cablecar were covered in frost and were looming like gigantic and fleshless skeletons in the midst of more dense layers of mist and cloud, dark and threatening, they swayed in the wind. At times I couldn't see them at all as the cloud hid them. The sun was completely hidden, which was rendering the atmosphere more unreal and harrowing. I was expecting the Yeti or any other demons and ghosts to jump out at me, just like in the horror movies. I began to doubt my own temerity.
The other skiers had taken a lead over me because I had some difficulty tightening my ski shoes. To confront this tough piste, I needed them really tight to be able to steer my skis in the best way and it took me some time to get my left ski shoe fastened safely.
The wind was blowing more aggressively now and I was seeing less and less. Because of the time lost to tighten my shoe, all the other skiers were already near the beginning of the piste, I could hardly distinguish them, yet I could see that they were no more than 15 or 20 yards away from me.
So, there I was, trying to follow these almost unreal shadows who were moving ahead of me in the thick cold mist. I had become deafened by the noise of the wind and my footsteps were muffled by the thick powder snow. I was walking in a deafening silence which was cutting me off from the real world. The walking, with skis and sticks in my hands started to get tougher as I struggled to reach the beginning of the piste. My legs were sinking nearly up to my knees with each step as I made it through the fresh snow.
I was walking alone for more than five minutes now, I couldn't see the other skiers anymore; where were they? I thought that I had heard some voices but I wasn't sure. I was beginning to become exceptionally anxious. The ground was not going up anymore and I had probably reached the beginning of the run. But I couldn't see anything as sign that told me I was there.
Because of all the fresh and sticky snow that had accumulated under my soles, I locked my ski bindings with difficulty. I was still unable to see the sides of the piste. Yet, the slope was well in front of me as I was feeling my skis beginning to slide down naturally into it, but was it the piste or was I outside of it? At the altitude of 10,500 feet, you cannot afford this type of doubt as you can easily find yourself suddenly in front of a precipice.
I was really scared now, but what could I do? All the other skiers had taken a lead, without even thinking that somebody could have lagged behind them. The freezing cold and the wind were dreadful and it was impossible to stay here until the next day, until the next return of the cablecar. There was no place to shelter. I had just to hope that I was indeed on that blasted piste.
The advantage of this powder snow was that the skis were slowed down, so I could steer them easily. Each time I felt that the slope was increasing, I had just to ski diagonally into it to slow down my speed. I stopped from time to time to get my breath back as descending totally blind in that mist was very exhausting for the nerves as much as it was for the body. I had already fell down three times, because I hadn't been able to notice in time the little rocks showing on the surface.
I had left the cablecar platform for an hour. The snow-storm was raging. My face was completely frozen as the end of my fingers and my poor feet. My leg muscles were stiffened from the effort and the cold. I was crying with rage and despair and there was nobody around to help me.
I was lost in the middle of this white desert and the worse was to come as the evening was closing in. Being winter and in the mountain, I knew that in half an hour, the night would be there, coming with a more intense cold.
The only luck I had was that I had not been forced to ski back and so far never met any real danger such as a precipice or a crevasse. The reassuring part of it was that, if I couldn't see what was surrounding me, I knew that my skis had always indicated that I was atleast going down. A proof that I was approaching the valley. But approaching which valley? How could I be sure that it was the valley with the ski resort and safety? I was totally lost, without any bearings, no meaning of telling direction.
Because of the cold, my body was beginning to shake all over now. As I fell down many times in the fresh snow, despite my ski clothes, the snow had finally come through them melting with the warmth of my skin. I was in a very critical situation. I knew that if I was not able to find quickly a place to shelter, I could die of exposure in the snow-storm that didn't want to end.
Despite the cold and my exhausted state, the anguish and fear of death helped me to redouble my efforts. Half an hour later, nightfall was near, but I had progressed, the slope was less pronounced now and the visibility better, the wind had also calmed down.
All my limbs were completely paralyzed by the freezing cold, I couldn't feel my hands nor my feet any longer and my face was just a frozen mask. I was skiing like stiff mechanical doll now with only a single idea in my mind: to move forward, whatever it could cost me, to avoid dying of exposure, lost in the night.
Fortune smiled upon me at last, the mist had broken up for a moment and I saw a little light far away in the falling night. A chalet, yes, it might be a chalet. Anyway, I had no other choice and, desperately, I tried to reach that light. I thought I was saved.
Alas, as I was progressing, I realized suddenly that between the chalet and me was a huge crevasse. I felt sick inside, I would never be able to reach that chalet. Surely my life was over. I just wanted to lie down in the snow, resign to death itself, and fall into a deep sleep. Death was beginning to appear to me as a real liberation, as the possibility to put an end to the sufferings I was enduring. I collapsed in the snow and began to loose my personal battle with the elements against me.
I don't know how long I remained lying down in this white shroud, a minute, ten minutes, I couldn't tell, but I suddenly awoke, why did I? I will never really understand, but I just didn't want to die, I was thinking of my friends, thinking of things that life was still able to give me, I was too young, it was too unfair, I couldn't die, I had to stand up at any price, I had to reach that chalet, I had to live, I wanted to live.
In spite of the cold and my completely wet and frozen clothes, I found inside of me enough willpower to stand up, my lust for life helping me to make efforts that I thought I was incapable of.
To get to the chalet, there was only one solution, to skirt round the crevasse, walking up to the summit. I decided to leave my ski there as they could hamper me in my ascent, just keeping my sticks to lean on them, I felt so weak.
After making superhuman efforts, I made it at last around that blasted crevasse and I was progressing now in the direction of the light, the snow-storm had started again with all its fury accompanied by the gloomy whistling of the wind while the snow was whipping my face. But I was not able to feel it, I had lost all feeling in my nerve endings, my face, my hands, I had the strange feeling that my mind was living in a body that was completely numbed by the cold.
Each step was more and more difficult, more strenuous, making me feel weaker and weaker, but I was beginning to perceive the shape of the chalet. I kept on walking, full of hope, I was saved, I was very near now, I would live. I began to run in the direction of this light, finding the strength to make it, the will to survive.
How I had been able to run in this deep snow, in such an exhausted state, I will never know, but what is sure is that because of this reckless action, I tired using up all my last strength and I fell down in the snow, just a few yards in front of the door of the chalet.
To die so near to my sanctuary was awful and the most awful thing was, that I was not unconscious, I could distinctly feel the cold numbing my body but I couldn't move, my lips were frozen and I couldn't even call out for help. What irony, I would die so near to my aim, just yards away from me.
Suddenly, I felt as if the door of the chalet had been opened, somebody was taking me in his arms, I just had the blurred vision of a face bent over me and then... nothing, unconscious, I sank into oblivion.
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