Anyone who skis with me knows that I don't fall. It's not because I don't ski hard. I do. It's because I know my limits and I'm always (or almost always) in balance. But on Saturday morning, I had the biggest wipeout of my life.

Before I get into this, let me just say that Brian and I had a great weekend skiing at Heavenly. Sure, Brian had some equipment problems (what's new?) but we got that solved, we had great conditions and the mountain was virtually empty.

On Friday night we drove through a blizzard to get dinner. While we ate, about 45 minutes, 4 inches of snow had piled on the car. In all there was 18 inches of fresh powder and blue skies when we woke at 7am on Saturday morning. We had breakfast at Heidi's Pancake Haus and were on the mountain by 9am. No one around. Pretty shocking for Saturday. I guess the roads must have been closed for most of the night and it scared people off.

The snow was deep almost everywhere. If you're not used to, it can rip up your leg muscles. Early on, Brian made it clear that he was suffering with his boots and had to take a break. He went off to the Lakeview Lodge to stretch out and I went off to ski by myself.

Up on the Canyon Express at the top of the California side, it was pretty socked in with low clouds. Visibility was maybe 20 feet, but he light was perfectly flat and you could not see variations in the terrain. I should have taken this under consideration, but, foolishly, I didn't, because I thought I was skiing a groomed track, Ridge Run. It was groomed, at least most of it. I made a few turns and headed towards the steeper portion where I hit a bank of power that I did not (and could not) see. I was launch out of my skis, flew through the air and landed face first into a fat pile of snow. It happened so fast I didn't even realize what had happened. One milisecond I was skiing looking into a white world, the next I was buried in snow looking into darkness. It was stunning.

Naturally all this happened right under the lift, so I as I gathering myself and did a sanity/body part check, I could hear people above me saying, nice yard sale, dude! I got up, looked around. I could see my two poles and one ski. I dusted the snow off my body, my hat, my goggles, my face and went searching for the other ski which fortunately turned up quickly. I snapped on the bindings and took off, thankful that I was in one piece.

Throughout the day I started noticing things that were a little awry. There was some pain in my right thumb. I must have hyperextended it when I landed. There was the beginnings of a bruise on the outside of my right wrist. I could have landed on my pole, but I'm not sure. The inner thigh on my left leg was a little tender. And most inexplicably, there was a dried patch of blood under my chin. It's nothing major. No broken bones. No head injury. No need for Ski Patrol. If that's the worst thing that ever happens to me when I ski, I'll be very fortunate. But I'm sore all over and I'm not sure how much it has to do with skiing 3 hard consecutive days for the first time in 2 years and how much was a result of my "cushioned" wipe out in the powder. I'm sure it's nothing a few days rest and some Advil won't cure.