Hope In The Cold: Winter Pursuit

It was a frigidly cold morning as I picked up my emergency backpack and pulled out my cross-country skis. I called out to Jasper, my chocolate brown labradoodle, to get a move on. Time was not on our side. The previous night's arctic blasts and snowstorms would complicate this search.

Being on the rescue mountain team for the last twenty years, I had seen more than my share of frozen blue human beings. A snowboarder had gone missing yesterday when he decided to wave away danger when engaging in off-piste skiing.

The search and rescue team had scoured the icy area. The deep snow made their efforts laborious. Then, the glacial temperatures and snowstorm rolled in, with white, pregnant clouds ready to deliver a heavy load of fresh, clean snow.

We will traverse these icy hills, looking for clues. As the crisp pine scent mingles with my cold breath, the brisk winds howl with the skis' hypnotic crunch, flattening the shimmering snow covering.

For such a beautifully majestic snowy site that looks so serene, a winter fanatics paradise. It can also be just as a deadly white blanket. Sadly, these adventures pay dearly for that when they throw caution in the nippy wind.

What will Jasper and I find when we arrive at the area in question? Did this snowboarder have a chance to live, or was he buried in Mother Nature's wintery rage?

For his family's sake, please God, let us not have to wait for the spring thaw.