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Outside Magazine February 2004
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I Did It Friedl's Way (cont.)

LATER, AS WE ENJOYED a complimentary drink back at the cabin while we squared up the bill, Friedl attempted his first bit of chitchat with me. "So, tomorrow it's back to work, eh?" I looked up to see if there was a sneer on his face to match the condescension I thought I heard in his voice. There wasn't, but I couldn't help wondering if Friedl thought I worked behind a desk, and assumed that his was a world I was allowed to visit every now and then if I saved my pennies. I swallowed, smiled, and finished signing the credit card slip. "Yes," I said, "tomorrow it's back to work."

It wasn't, really. The next day was a series of first-class flights back to New Mexico. But the day after that, it was back to work. It had been snowing, so the day started—as many great ones do—with a 4 A.M. telephone call. It was "Devo"—Rey Deveaux, then snow safety director of Taos Ski Valley—telling me to come up for a morning of avalanche control in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.

It had snowed about three feet of the lightest, most pleasant powder imaginable, and as we patrolled, I told a few stories about my hairball slide show and abuse at the hands of Friedl. After we'd thrown our bombs and shaken snow from the cornices, there was nothing left to do but hop in and rip it up. Devo and I stood with the tips of our skis jutting out into the air above Stauffenburg Chute, just as the sun began to pull over the horizon. He turned to me and said with a smile, "Ja, Friedl, it's back to work!"

I listened to the hiss of his skis, watching him disappear in a vapor trail of white smoke. When I could see that he was safe, I followed. The powder was so deep it was pouring over the collar of my jacket. Normally, this long, 40-degree line would be tough to ski, but on this day, with all the snow we'd knocked into it with our bombs, it was cake. Good cake. I pointed my skis down and gasped for air every time I came to the surface—floating, laughing, and trying to scream with a mouthful of snow: "Jaaaaaaa, Frieeeeeedl ... it's back to woooooooooooork!"
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