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    Ryan Jones
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Ski Trip - 1. Chapter 1

It was a bright sunny day in Innsbruck. We were in the valley, in a beautiful little pension, on a small side street that Alex and I had stumbled across by accident taking a detour from the train station to one of his favorite beer halls in the center of town.

I had met Alex in a gay bar and dance club in Amsterdam about 2 weeks earlier. He was so beautiful, dancing there on one of the stages. I started talking to him and the next thing I knew, we were together. He was 19 and on a vacation from university. He told me he had lost interest in it and I could relate, having had the same issues when I went straight from the primary education to college without interruption.

We talked through the nights and there was a chemistry between us that seemed unreal. What did we really have in common? I was a lot older than Alex, I had just had my 40th birthday the week before we met but it seemed that whatever we did together it was so much fun. Even just walking down the streets of the city together with our hands occasionally touching was incredible, the feeling of being joined to him was what I had been missing for quite a long time.

One day we were discussing skiing. Now, let's get this out of the way right now. I absolutely HATE cold weather and snow. I never liked it, so of course I had never been skiing. Alex had though, many times and he convinced me, perhaps assisted by the potency of the hash, that we should travel to Innsbruck and partake of the joys of skiing.

So the next day we got on the train and, after a wondrous night in the sleeper car, the train's motion really accentuated the lovemaking, we arrived in Innsbruck. I have to say, it was a beautiful place. The valley was warm, sunny and there were a lot of people roaming around everywhere but when you looked up at the mountains, they were still covered in snow. This was something I wasn't used to, my base of operations was Washington, DC and there were no mountains within visible range and, even if you went to the nearest mountains, they weren't high enough to keep snow on them. We had made hotel reservations but it was too early to check in so we set off to explore the city and found the little pension, run by a delightful older woman who seemed to act as if we were long lost members of her own family.

She allowed us to check in right away, it was still hours too early for the hotel so we took her up on the offer, retrieved our luggage from lockers at the train station and unpacked in our room at the pension. It was unusual for such a small place because we had our own bathroom, with shower, in the room. Every other place like this I'd ever been in had shared bathrooms in the hall outside of the various bedrooms. We were her only guests though, I suppose that's why we got this room. After assuring the lady that we would be back for dinner we set out to explore the town. I had been in Europe for about 4 months at this time, aimlessly going from place to place, always ending up back in Amsterdam because of the gay night life and the drugs in the coffee shops. It never ceased to amaze me, the history that Europe possessed. When you come from a relatively new country, like the USA, it's sometimes hard to conceive of buildings from the 1400's, or even earlier. As for history, we have a lot of our own but it's so compressed within the short time of European settlement that it doesn't compare.

The beer in Innsbruck was awesome! We ended up in the town square and there was this outdoor restaurant that had basic foods, sausages and bread, and lots of beer so we settled in for a couple of hours of leisurely drinking and eating. It was around 2pm when we left the beer hall to walk around again and we set off, unsteadily, to continue our explorations. As we did Alex pointed out the mountains around us and told me the names and then he showed me the main mountain where the Olympic races were held and said we'd hit that place tomorrow.

I really didn't think about his words, I was slightly, or more than slightly, intoxicated and I nodded my assent, thinking to myself that those mountains looked awfully high. For the rest of that day we wandered the town, smiling at each other as we bumped into things, stopping occasionally to "refill" our tanks as it were.

The dinner put on by the lady at the pension was incredible. I have eaten at three star Michelin restaurants and her cooking and presentation was of that caliber for sure. We sat in the parlor afterwards just talking about everything, Alex's head in my lap and her acting as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about two men together showing affection. Finally though we went to bed and, after the usual lovemaking, slept through until breakfast which was presented to us again, in mass quantities, by Frau Anders.

The next day was bright, sunny and warm. It was supposed to be almost 70 here in the valley, it was hard for me to drum up any enthusiasm for going up to the top of a snow covered mountain. But I let Alex convince me and we took our heavy coats and headed for the chair lifts up to the ski runs. With each lift we took it got a little colder until we were finally to the levels that were still snow covered. We reached the lodge where Alex took care of the outfitting, renting me the skis,boots and all the necessary equipment.

We got dressed and I have to say that I was pretty dashing in my ski outfit. I looked like I almost knew what to do. I guess I spoiled it some by kinda falling over as I tried to follow Alex to the chair lift to the top of the slope. There were hordes of people wandering around by the lodge but very few taking the lift the way we were going. This didn't make me suspicious for some reason, l am still not sure why I didn't ask Alex the reason. But we got to the top and even I had to admit it was truly beautiful up there. The sky was clear,bright sun on fresh snow and you could see the valley below. I began to think there might just be something to this skiing thing after all. Then Alex said it was time to head down.

We were alone on the top of the slope. The other people there were long gone and the chair lift had come through empty for awhile. Alex asked if I was ready and,having gained some confidence in the past few minutes walking and not falling, l said sure let's go so Alex said to follow him and do what he did.

The slope was very gentle and I saw Alex push himself off and head off towards the bottom of the mountain. I did the same thing but at that moment I noticed something strange. While I could see the top where we were and the bottom where the valley was, there wasn't really a view of the actual path down the mountain itself. I thought about it a second and then, as if he had fallen down a hole, I saw Alex's head and body disappear from sight!

I wanted to stop, wanted to turn around but there wasn't a chance to react quick enough until I also went right over the edge on to the Olympic downhill ski run that had just been used a couple of years earlier. I wanted to fall but even that seemed beyond my power as I hurtled almost at what I thought was the speed of light down this (to my eyes) sheer drop off the mountain. I estimated I was going about 60mph by the time I could even fall over. But gravity finally did it's thing and I did fall,sliding about 300' down the mountain on my ass and feeling that snow really wasn't the fluffy, soft thing I remembered from the snowfalls back in Washington. Finally I slowed, stopped and I managed to get back on the skis.

At this point Alex was gone, no longer in any type of visual range. I realized he wouldn't be coming back up, at least not right away. Hard to ski down and watch up, even I could see that it was up to me to get to the bottom. I looked behind me and that really looked like an almost sheer cliff of ice that I had just skied and flown and fallen down to get to here. With a final shudder I started gingerly back down the mountain.

This area seemed nice. Even though I hadn't had any experience before I managed to stay upright and continue, probably reaching a maximum speed of 10mph. Of course, I didn't think of it at the time but a normal person, hitting this area, would have all his built up speed from that initial drop off to carry them through this area at a high rate of speed also. I was almost beginning to enjoy the whole thing when the trail abruptly started once again to steepen.

This time I was determined not to be out of control but I lost my focus and hit the ground again because I kept jamming the poles in to keep my speed down. Finally I tired of that and just decided to try to stay on top of the skis and allowed my speed to build once again.

Now I don't know how many of you have been skiing on these types of courses but they have these little dips in them in some odd places. They have a tendency to suck you in, then send you up a small ramp. Needless to say I didn't see it, the glare of the sun on the ice and snow was blinding, even with the glasses I had on. So I hit the compression doing maybe 40mph or so and that was it for me.

I'm sure all of you have seen the cartoons where some character goes over a cliff and all the arms and legs are flailing around? Like they aren't even attached? Well, that was me. I was in midair trying to get back to the ground. The poles and skis and me were all working in opposite directions as I screamed out curses loud enough that Alex told me he heard me at the bottom of the trail. For that moment I was totally sure of death, if and when I ever reached the ground again. For a few moments I was sure I was just going to fly directly down into the valley and crash through the tent of that outdoor beer hall, probably killing myself and a few other people as I hit one of the huge beer kegs there, causing the pressure to escape and probably decapitating an innocent nun as she did her rosary. Of course she should have been paying attention for people falling out of the sky, that's one of the first thing they teach in nun school,right?

About that time reality set in again, in the form of me crashing into the mountain.. I was lucky, I managed to hit it ass first so I was cushioned pretty well. It still made me see stars and when I got to a full stop and got back up I was not in the best mental condition ever. I collected all the pieces of equipment that were scattered over so large and area you would have thought I had exploded in midair. Then off I went again,down the mountain side.

There were many more falls, of varying seriousness. No more of that needs to be related here except to say that there was no part of me besides my face that hadn't had intimate contact with the ice and snow of this ski trail. I straggled to the bottom feeling worse and worse but as I got closer and I could see Alex I started to work myself up to a frenzy. I completely forgot about how to stop and started to build up speed again, not really noticing that the trail ended. Alex was walking out to greet me and I could the see the expression on his face change from worry, to happiness to see me, to confusion, then finally to alarm as he realized I was heading for him at top speed and had no intentions of stopping.

At the last second he realized his predicament and dodged out of the way but didn't quite make it all the way, one of my arms got his and we spun around, over and around even more, down the little run off area and into a huge snowbank put there l guess for the people like me who were just too crazy or stupid to stop themselves after having been subjected to that test of torture they called the mountain. As soon as I got my breath back and after I whispered to a still dazed Alex that he was in so much trouble, I stood up and started pouring out invective towards the mountain, the snow, the entire continent of Europe, Alex and anyone in the general area.

To emphasize each point I would take off a piece of equipment and fling it in a random direction. There were a ski to the right of me, then a boot over my shoulder, then the next boot in the general direction of Alex who was aware enough that time to duck. I was running out of breath and inventiveness as I ran out of equipment and, as I finished stripping right there, I stalked to the chair lift and, leaving Alex behind, headed back down to the valley and the city.

It all seemed like a bad dream. sure, I still ached all over but as continued down the lifts, I managed to get enough nerve to look behind me at that mountain. It stood there, uncaring that i had almost died 10 times on my way down it. I swear it seemed to be smiling at me. I felt more curses building so by force of will I turned my face away from the mountain and focused totally on the the tent of the beer hall.

I got the the city and hailed a taxi, then stumbled into the beer hall where I hailed the nearest waitress and told her to bring me beer and just keep bringing it until I fell off the bench or someone came to get me. I was pleasantly drunk by the time I felt someone sit down next to me, I turned to see Alex's smiling face.

I felt all the anger melt away, all the words I had intended to say leaving me as I saw him. I looked at him and smiled, then started laughing and he joined in. I am not sure that I wouldn't have gotten hysterical but at that moment the waitress bringing Alex's beer managed to trip and hurl the thing at me. I felt it hit my back, then the cold beer spread all over me. For some reason it was an appropriate cap to the day.

I was still alive and nobody and nothing had managed to kill me. The mountain didn't care, I realized that, but to be honest neither did I. I took all it had to give me and I was here drunk out of my mind, covered in prime Austrian beer, laughing with a really beautiful young guy. It was a long time before we both got back under control. I kept relating what had happened to me on the side of the mountain and as I got to what I thought was a particularly gruesome part with potential death as a likely outcome, Alex would laugh even harder, taking some of the edge away.

We staggered back to the pension of our illustrious Austrian Frau and regaled her with stories of the day's adventure. It elicited gasps and laughter as we sat over dinner and brandy afterwards, this time my head was in Alex's lap and his hands were running through my hair. I kept trying for sympathy but the more wistful or sad I sounded, the more the two of them laughed.

The next day we prepared to bid Innsbruck farewell. Alex needed to get back to school and I wanted to be with him awhile longer. Our relationship it turned out was like that one skiing tour down the mountain. We started slow, got out of control then had our ups and downs until we ran out of speed and coasted apart from each other about 3 months later. Analogies are easy in some cases, I am glad I did that one run down the course and I am glad that I spent those months with Alex.

Both were ephemeral events, things I couldn't recapture and probably a few years later wouldn't have considered even doing. At that time though it was right for me and , I hope, Alex too. He and I are still friends even though it has been many years. When I am in Amsterdam now and we have dinner our conversation goes back to that trip a lot. The last time I was there Alex and I were alone together, his boyfriend and mine were both away so we had rare time to spend with just each other. One more time we went over the edge, down the slopes of our love and caring and slowly coasted to sleep in each other's arms, our wild downhill passion replaced by love and respect for each other, like I had for the mountain in Innsbruck when we left there years ago.

This is my first attempt at posting here. It's likely not up to what you're used to on here but it's just about the only story I've written without serious sexual content. Any comments, good or bad, are welcomed.
Copyright © 2021 Ryan Jones; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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This was a really good read that brought back a lot of similar memories. My one and only foray into downhill skiing was somewhat similar to yours, but my mountain wasn't nearly as big. It did involved me crashing into my friend and tumbling down the slope a good 300 feet or so. We couldn't untangle ourselves cuz we were laughing so hard. Luckily two guys stopped to help. I also discovered that when you walk down the mountain under the ski lift you get laughed at.

Innsbruck is beautiful. Went there on a high school trip my senior year. Somewhere I have pictures from the top of the Olympic ski jump (we climbed a gazillion stairs to get there, but the view was worth it!)

Keep writing and keep posting.

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