Johnny Neutron

An anecdote from our recent Canada trip.

Late in the week, we’re skiing high on a slope. Last run of the day. We get to a spot that drops a bit, then the aspect changes for a few turns before the slope gets a little shallower and faces north again. Here’s the reason you have a guide. Tom guesses that the change of aspect has allowed some extra snow to blow into that spot.

“We may kick off a little slide. It won’t be anything big. Just go one at a time and, if something starts, should be no problem to ski out of it.”

Tom goes. A couple more. A few do kick off little sloughs. The snow around them breaks for a meter or two in each direction and follows along for a turn. I go, same deal. As I hit the steep and deep part, the snow around me breaks into a dozen or twenty soft blocks that immediately slough and disintegrate. Kind of cool at this minor scale. Normally in a slide, you yell so people are alerted and try to outrace the slide until you can ski out of it. But here, no worries.

So I don’t know if Johnny Neutron wasn’t listening, or wasn’t watching. ‘Cause he’s not really the nervous type. He skis next and we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt here. We’ll say his slide is a little bit bigger. He hits a range a few octaves higher than normal,

“Avalanche! Avalaaaaaaanche!!”.

He points ‘em down and absolutely races to us below. Yammering with adrenaline. Yes, we’re all relieved he made it through.

He absolutely did react well. He gained a tale of survival to share with his doting groupies back in Nashville. And he earned himself another moniker; Johnny Lightweight.