Over the top!

This isn't a long story and not half as exciting as the other contributions on the site, but I wanted to throw my little tale in to the melting pot.

Shall I begin - yeah lets! So it was a sunny blue sky powder day, the snow had just dumped it down and I was having a good day skiing, the hangovers wasn't too bad and I was flying around resort hitting all the big runs and deciding where I am going to hunt out the powder - I'd been in Verbier for about a month and hadn't really tested myself that much yet which by the way is a great place to seek out off piste challenges. I was riding on my new scratch skis and I was keen to see what backcountry riding they are up too - anyway I'm digressing.

I was just coming down a blue run and slowing down for the lift when I saw one of my chalet host mates who was a Saffa. We'd met in the pub a few times and always had some banter about riding together so he shouts me across. He was a snowboarder and was out with his girlfriend and another mate - all snowboarders. So anyway they asked me if I wanted to ride with them, and we decided to jump on the lift together and work out where we are going to hit it.

As we reached the top we decided we were going to hit a nice little coulouir and some snow fields where I hadn't been yet, we jumped of the lift (I had to wait around for the boarders to strap up and on - as always) and then we headed down the slope. As we sped along I quickly took the charge and led the guys off the side of the piste and down the side of a run to where it looked like the fun would begin, I was leading on instinct. We hit the powder and started carving it up, the boarders were loving it, whereas on my new skis and in deep powder it was a little harder than I expected!! My turns were long and wide and my pace was a little uncontrollable and fast as I tried to balance my weight! We kept moving and then I saw the gap for the Couloir, I gestured over to the guys that was the way I was heading. As I powered on in the lead the gap between the rocks start to widen, and I started to raise my stance so that I can see down for a path. However as I got closer and closer there didn't seem to be anything on the other side of the lip and I was about to head off a cliff! The realisation suddenly hit me, I shouted to the guys not to follow and made a move to slam the breaks on and slow down. However as I made the move to turn parallel to the Piste one of my skis stuck and I found myself heading over the cliff in a weird kind of snow plough stance and no way to stop - I was going over the edge!

There was only one way out and that was to bail, I threw myself to the side and prepared for a face full of powder and perhaps a face full of rocks as well. Bang I hit the ground fast, and no doubt a puff of powder hit the sky. The guys I had been riding with had heard my calls and quickly turned off down a different route and disappeared. I checked myself, good I had survived, I was the right side of the lip,or hang on - no I wasn't I was on the lip!! My legs were hanging over the side and my skis were still firmly attached. I lifted my head and could tell heaving my legs back up over the edge was going to be an exhausting and difficult challenge. As I lifted my head more I could see down over the side. It was about a 20ft straight drop on to some thick powder and about a 45% incline (something like that - it was steep) oh and rocks either side.

As I looked over perched on the ledge (like something out of the Italian job balancing) my riding buddies were sat at the bottom looking up and waving to me. Plus whilst I lay there a chairlift happened to cross the line above me and I could here people cheering to me - 'just do it'! It seemed like a crazy idea but it just seemed like the easiest option. I'd seen plenty of extreme skiers go over something like this in videos and I'm sure it was doable, I was going to throw myself over.

I shouted to the guys - 'Im going to come over' and everyone waited with baited breath! I kind of got myself ready as best I could, covered in snow, skis hanging over the side and poles in position to push myself over the side! This was it, the adrenaline was pumping, this was a jump in to the unknown - 1, 2, 3....

I heaved myself over and flew straight down through the air, wow I felt heavy, and I started picking up speed in free flight - as I got closer down, and lower down I leant forward, the gap was small about 10 foot wide and surrounded by rocks, I didn't want to hit those rocks! As I hit the snow in a flurry my weight kept going forward, damn those rocks were close and I tried to steer myself straight, but the incline was so steep and the snow so deep I couldn't control it and I went straight in to a summersault! Straight away my skis came off, my poles disappeared and my body starting gathering speed. Suddenly the memories of videos with guys jumping over cliffs was replaced with memories of guys summersaulting down pistes and this was me. I was flying down the mountain, flipping, banging, I could grab anything, or do anything, I was completely out of control. It continued, and continued some more, I was becoming disorientated, confused and dizzy! But then quickly I was hit by something fast, quick and heavy and stopped. I was face down in the snow and looked round, there was my Saffa mate on top of me, he had seen me coming and literally rugby tackled me to the side and stopped my fall. Limbs were all good, no blood, all my teeth - success I'd made it down.

Not a bad conclusion really - oh shit only one problem. My brand new skis were buried in that snow somewhere 30 feet above me, and there was no way I was leaving them. With the help of my buddies and after an exhausting trek back up the incline (damn it was steep) we eventually managed to find and dig my gear out and carry on with riding, I must have promised them a hundred beers that night for their help!

That was truly an experience where I new I had been stupid, and I also knew I was lucky not to have broken anything or hurt myself. That night I recalled the story to anyone who cared to listen, and got completely wasted in the pub, happy in the knowledge I should not be there, and happy to buy the guys a few beers in gratitude. The mountain had sucked me right in and spat me out! At about 2am I was chatting to some random bloke at the bar and he told me about how he had been on a chairlift earlier that day and saw some crazy guy throw himself off a mountain and probably had killed himself! When I told him it was me it was my turn for someone to buy me a drink!