Free chant on the ski slope

Apr. 18th, 2025

Standing on the towering snow ridge of Whistler Blackcomb Mountain, the edge of the aluminum alloy snowboard is firmly embedded in the soft powder snow, and a hint of coldness quietly climbs up my calves along the boots. I instinctively move my wrist, listening to the subtle friction sound of the ski pole wristband. The glacier in the distance reflects the dreamy rainbow light under the sunlight. This is a sacred moment unique to every skier. When adrenaline begins to slowly surge in the blood vessels, the whole world waits with bated breath, waiting for the first crisp sound of the snowboard cutting through the snow surface.

At the moment of diving, the cold air is like a mixture of ice and water, rapidly pouring into the gap between the goggles and the face towel. When the double boards slide parallel, the snow wax and snow crystals rub against each other, emitting a unique scent that instantly penetrates the nostrils. It is a pure and charming taste mixed with the fragrance of pine. At the moment when the body's center of gravity moves forward, the thigh muscles are like well-trained soldiers, accurately controlling the change of the blade angle. The blade draws a beautiful arc on the snow surface, leaving two parallel silver lines, just like the smooth italics of Italy written on a white canvas, showing elegance and agility. When sliding over the sun-soaked corn snow, the snowboards make a joyful "creaking" sound, as if the earth is softly chirping for this wonderful slide.

The most unforgettable thing was the afternoon when I encountered a white wind in the Alps. In an instant, the visibility dropped to less than five meters, and the strong wind carried ice particles, whipping the mask like a whip. In this extremely harsh environment, I could only judge the terrain by the slight vibration from the snowboard. At that moment, my body and snowboard seemed to have reached a tacit understanding beyond words. The angle of knee flexion, the amplitude of hip rotation, and the rhythm of arm swing, all movements did not require deliberate command from the brain, as if this set of muscle memories had already been deeply imprinted in DNA. When finally breaking through the snowy area, the sunlight suddenly penetrated the clouds, and the undisturbed powder snow in the mountain depression shone with a pearl-like luster. At that moment, the joy of surviving the disaster and the pride of completing the challenge intertwined, making every pore exude fine sweat.

The experience of skiing in the wild snow of Niseki in Hokkaido is like a gentle dance with nature. The waist-deep powder snow gently supports the snowboard and sinks slowly. Every swing of the blade can bring up the rolling snow mist like waves. The sunlight shines through the dense cedar forest, casting patches of mottled light and shadow on the snow surface. When sliding, the passing pine branches shake off the fine snow particles, falling on the back of the neck, bringing a cool shudder. At this moment, the numbers on the speedometer are meaningless. What is important is to truly feel the ups and downs of the snowboard in the soft snow layer, listen to your heartbeat and the perfect resonance of the sliding rhythm.

Of course, skiing is not just about elegant gliding. On the steep mogul trail, every undulating snowpack seems to be testing the limits of human balance. The knees bend and stretch quickly like powerful springs, and the snowboards constantly change direction in the bumps. The fog on the goggles and the sweat on the forehead blur the vision. At this time, only by clenching the teeth can we maintain the stability of the core. When we finally finish the last snowpack, standing on the gentle ski trail, looking back at the newly conquered "battlefield", the pleasure of conquest is far stronger than any intoxication brought by alcohol.

The time spent on the ski slopes over the years has already surpassed the scope of simple sports in skiing. It is a unique language of dialogue with nature. The shape of each snowflake, the change of wind direction, and the difference in snow quality are all unique messages conveyed by the earth to us. It is a continuous challenge to oneself. When you successfully overcome the fear of steep slopes in the early morning, or master new turning skills proficiently in the evening, these small improvements are constantly reshaping your confidence and courage. It is also a profound philosophy of life, teaching us to maintain inner peace in high-speed skiing, learn to be flexible in complex terrain, and understand awe and respect after every fall.

Nowadays, as I gently touch the scratches left by the accumulation of time on the snowboard, the unforgettable moments spent on the ski slopes are constantly playing back in my mind like a movie. Every skier is a poet on the snowy mountain, writing their own free poetry on the earth with their snowboard. And when the new snow season comes again, standing at the top of the familiar yet unfamiliar snow slope, the feeling of accelerated anticipation never changes. Because we know well that at the moment when the snowboard cuts through the snow surface, all troubles will be forgotten, leaving only the whistling of the wind, the whispering of the snow, and the purest desire for freedom in our hearts.