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Yesterday, there was an avalanche fatality in the Wasatch- one of the first of the year. This type of news always triggers a bit of PTSD for me. My mind races as I start wondering, which one of my friends died? How will I cope with the loss? The snowsports community is very tight knit and I've lost a lot of friends. I didn't know the man who perished yesterday but my heart goes out to his friends and family. I often wonder why I still chose to be a ski mountaineer when I'm so aware of the risks. I think about the close calls I've had, like in this picture- the closest I've felt to death. I was dropping into an icy steep run in Chamonix. On one of my first hop turns, I hit a patch of black ice and my edges began to lose traction. As I started to slip, I dug the steel blade of the Grivel Condor grip mounted on my @lekiusa pole into the snow as I stood up and got back onto my edges on the softer snow. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly became aware of how fragile life is in a big mountain arena. It sounds strange but coming close to death brought me closer to life, and more grateful for each sunrise I witness and every giggle I share. But I'm learning you can appreciate life without always living on the edge. While I hope to inspire others to live a healthy, active lifestyle, I also want to talk realistically about the risks. I'll forever be a student with more to learn about the relationship between humans and the mountains. @tom_grant_
