"After probably my eighth wipe out, and having only made it maybe a quarter of the way down this stupid mountain, I came on someone else who was struggling just as hard as I was. It was a woman, probably in her mid twenties or early thirties, who had taken up the same strategy I had for getting to the bottom. I don't remember who approached who, but the conversation came pretty naturally, as we were the only two people who were seated on this mountain, which was otherwise occupied by people successfully skiing. It turned out she was in the same boat I was. She was terrible at skiing, and the people she was with had taken off, so now she was left to her own devices getting down this massive mountain. We made it a point to stick together. If she fell, I would go down intentionally, work my way over to her, and help her get back up, and vice versa. We cracked jokes about how stupid the predicament we found ourselves in was. We stood up for each other when the occasional person would get mad about us falling down in someone's way. It was slow progress, and we were both incredibly frustrated, but over the course of an hour or so, we helped each other crash our way down this mountain. When we got to the bottom, I thanked her for sticking with me, and she did the same. I wished her luck with any future mountains she might try to tackle, and she laughed and said she had her fill of the mountains for this trip. We wished each other the best, and I went off to find my dad, who true to his word, had been waiting for me at the bottom."