My sleepless night would not be without its reward. My line would be all mine. We watch the crowd gather, talk lines, stretch, and study what snow moves when the ski patrol's bombs begin their assault on the mountain. The crowd gets anxious, people trying to slyly creep past friends, others blatantly ducking the ropes in the maze to hook up with buddies, receiving a barrage of snowballs and expletives in the process. The clock ticks away at a ridiculously slow rate.
Bodies push forward.
Another lesser lift has loaded. Lift operators are heckled mercilessly. The anxiety is high. But there is no word. Then, shortly before 9 a.m., the last round of patrollers finishing avalanche routes slide to a stop in front of the maze.