Mental Note: Take it Easy, Nutjob

A very long but very cheap trip to the doctor's shows that my hand is not in fact broken, not even fractured. It just hurts like hell and should sort itself out without a cast or anything in a couple of weeks. How lucky is that?

Not as lucky as some things... Today we were changing over a few more advertisements around the resort. One of the big ones half way up the mountain meant that we had to get on the lift with our gear (ladders etc) and walk down to the poster. Once we'd finished we took our ladders and the old sign and headed back down to the base. It's quite a hike back down so we jumped on the old sign and slid down the mountain on our butts. It was a bit chaotic and out of control but it went well at first until I went over a crest to be met by a pretty crazy-steep, ungroomed ski-run covered in giant icebergs. Yay. It's a miracle I'm not dead. There I was; careering out of control on a huge sheet of plastic, skimming through a minefield of rock-solid chunks of ice. I managed to avoid most of the bigger ones but didn't manage to spare my butt and back the impact of a few of the smaller ones. (the boxs of screws I had in my pocket is going to leave a pretty serious bruise on my thigh). I somehow managed to spin myself around so that I was flying head first on my back through this gauntlet of pain shortly before I started heading towards one about the size of a horse. Jocke watched in horror as the scene became more and more ridiculous. By some manner of divine luck I managed to twist myself so that my shoulder slid up the iceblock and I finally managed to come to a stop. Shaken, stirred and bruised... but nothing more... I got up and walked away.

I spent the next few hours thanking my lucky stars and acknowleding yet another warning shot accross the bow to take it easy this season.