We split up, each of us choosing runs of our own liking. We ski through the afternoon, following the European style of downhill runs intermixed with social brew stops. As shadows overtake the valley, paragliders launch from the neighbouring ridges. Riding thermals, their glistening chutes float against the backdrop of blushing peaks. After one last run, we, too, head down.
Most lifts come with security bars that swing from overhead.
My friend Sam neglects to put his down. The operator shouts to him in German. With a bit of sign language, Sam figures out the problem. All goes well until we reach bottom. Perhaps embarrassed by his earlier blunder, Sam crosses his ski tips on the dismount and exits face first.