I went skiing up at Ragged Mountain in New Hampshire this weekend, and had a blast. The snow was the best I’d ever seen on the east coast, and the mountain was pretty empty. Absolutely couldn’t have been better.

In the course of the morning, I went to riding the lift up with my roommate. Just after we’d boarded the chair and while we were chatting (only about 20 yards from where we’d boarded), my ski tip got caught on a mound of snow, and I got yanked off the chair into a snow bank. In near-cartoon fashion, my roommate felt the chair jump a little, and all of a sudden I wasn’t sitting next to her anymore; she was talking to no one.

Uninjured, save my pride, I skied down to the boarding area, dodging the oncoming chairs, and got on again. On the ride up, my new chair-mate and I had the following conversation:

Her: I just skied this amazing double black diamond [the hardest terrain to ski] off the back side of this lift. It was amazing!
Me: My ski tip got caught and I fell of the lift.

Oh yeah.