There's something about the “click-click” of boots into bindings,
It’s something in the way cold air greets the lungs.
It’s the glow on the peaks when the sun’s barely risen,
And how the wind makes the trees speak in exotic tongues.
It is taking a deep breath of fresh mountain air,
Before carving the most perfect of turns.
It’s the adrenaline that builds before leaving the ground,
The cold fingers and deep muscle burns.
I wake every morning with a smile on my face,
Knowing just what the day has in store.
When my skis hit the snow and there’s wind in my hair,
I need me,
And nothing more.
-Zina Bougri 2012
Hey I'm Liza, 16, 801 skier born and raised, PC Winter Sports School. I like skiing, tea, and cats. snapchat @elizahigh
There are really only three things to learn in skiing: how to put on your skis, how to slide downhill, and how to walk along the hospital corridor.
The simple fact is this: when you go to Alaska, you get your ass kicked.
May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.