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Devlin C. Mountain KingMy adversary lurks just beyond its edge. I am far away from other trails on the mountain. I am alone. I feel the deep freeze in the air as it assaults my skin. Rogue snowflakes glide through an opening in my jacket down my back. I breathe in and out deeply, fogging my precious goggles in the process. Memories of my unsuccessful first attempt at my foe linger. The trees most certainly remember our disastrous collision; they seek revenge. I slowly glide to the edge of the lip with my overly expensive skis. All 164 centimeters of them are anxious – my allies in the war with the mountain. My fingers are cold. I glance around and plunge into the powdery forest that awaits me. I am swallowed by the white abyss. I conquer my foe. I skied the trail. I am king of the mountain. |
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2010 EDITION]
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