Val d'Isere 2011

Some of you know that I like to indulge in a little off piste ski action. Here I am, back in the orange suit, off the Leisse, below the Tignes glacier. Nothing too hairy, and definitely nothing extreme; just nice turns in fresh snow away from the crowds. I ski with Wayne Watson from Alpine Experience, a brilliant and experienced guide and a great teacher. I'm here for an extended stay in Val d'Isere, as I am currently unemployed, which some of you may also know. That makes me a bona fide ski bum.

This season our skiing is tinged with sadness and loss. The day before I arrived, the group I ski with was involved in a serious avalanche and two people were buried. One of them, someone with whom I have skied on many occasions, did not survive. His death is shocking and tragic and a brutal reminder of how dangerous and unpredictable the mountains can be.

We hear of fatal ski accidents all the time, and when it happens to an anonymous (to us) victim we say a little prayer, thank our luck, and get back out there, trying to stay safe. It's akin to reading about a horrific car accident and then getting in your car. Or seeing an accident on the motor way, and then continuing to cruise at 70mph in your little box of soft metal speed. You don't stop driving because of these unfortunate accidents. Do you?

However, having this tragedy happen to someone known to us makes it all the more poignant and thought provoking. I did consider postponing or curtailing my trip, and do question my dedication to an activity that is potentially life threatening and ultimately unproductive (you go up, you ski down, you go up, you ski down). But making my first turns of the season today filled me with a sense of adventure and happiness, and it seems to me that these are rare and wonderful gifts that should be treasured.

I still maintain that the most dangerous thing I've ever done is ride a bike in rush hour London, day in, day out, placing my safety in the hands of thousands of anonymous car drivers. I think it's miraculous that I didn't have any incidents (apart from the Argos lorry driver who tried to cut me up and then threw coffee at me when I didn't let him).

So this photo blog is dedicated to the memory of David Robinson. If there is a heaven, may it be filled with endless slopes of light fluffy powder snow.

Skier: Gideon Miller
Photo by Jean Ribart: picasaweb.google.com/jean.ribart