I live at the top of a mountain.

I have to go on a trip to get home. It’s a straight path, a climbing trail. On my way home I have the chance to prepare for what I will feel when I arrive.

The ride home builds up anticipation of my arrival.

When I get there, nothing exists, except freedom.

When I reach the top of the mountain on the lift or snowmobile, I see hear and feel freedom.

The world lies at my feet, I am at the top of the world.

The next thing I feel is on my carve away from home. The wind is crisp and clean, the trip down the mountain is exhilarating and it clears my mind.

I am the only one who chooses my route down the mountain. I am in control, but at the same time I have a respect for the mountain and for nature.

I live on the mountain; the mountain and I are one.