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It was during my last skiing holiday in March, when I saw something you
probably won't believe. There was this guy, dressed in an orange coloured jacket, whose
only pleasure seemed to be to go uphill and then race downhill again. All day long. Nothing
else would do. Just up and down.
He seemed to be the first to go up in the morning, the last to come down when it got dark. He
didn't use any sticks with his skis, but he would carry a piece of wood in his hand, a
board, about 2 by 4 inches, and hold it in front of him as he raced downhill. When asked, he
would tell people that when he was going really fast, he would hear music coming from the board,
strange sounds, as if a creaking window would sing a song.
And when he went extra fast, a glow would light up in the board, a golden light.
Otherwise he was a nice guy, he didn't look loony at all. It was just this fixed idea with
his piece of wood that made him appear quite strange.
I know, the snapshot is not very good, I only had a small camera with me and I had to blow up
quite a bit. But it's true. Really true.
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