November 26, 2002 - Page 2

The towering waterfalls and fairytale vistas we encountered during the afternoon, along with some clever persuasion from my so-called friends, convinced me to sign my name up for the next day’s skiing outing. Having never skiied before, I would have been wise to make out a will before scaling these no-nonsense mountains with only a couple of popsicle sticks to strap on my shoes and get back down.

The breathtaking train ride up the mountains, by itself worth the price of admission, dropped us off in front of three of the most famous and feared peaks in all

the world—Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau, each standing a mere 13,000 feet and casting ominous shadows over the humans foolish enough to challenge their awesome power. Without a clue how to stop, turn, or chew gum while on skis, I hurled myself down the first slope like a lemming going over a cliff.

Without getting into the gory details, let’s just say that these were no bunny slopes and no one mistook me for an Olympian. Even the Swiss four year olds were skiing circles around me, a feat that becomes significantly easier when yours truly is a large target usually laying in the middle of the run. In the end, however, I did improve and our beautiful surroundings would have made the day incredible even if I’d just stayed on the lifts.

After two months of famous sites, new cultures, and lifelong memories, the Alps were a perfect place for us to conclude our journeys. Luckily, I made it off the mountain and out of my skis before Switzerland became the end of both my travels and my life.