And no thats not me in the bottom corner, landing on my Riggy! Not yet anyhow...
In the afternoon, got of the beginners slopes and went up the glacier, for some action.. This was the place where everyone was at, and after a few blue slopes decided to try a red one at the end of the day. Well unknown to me at the end of the day the slopes are pretty carved up and very bumpy, with my stance as rigid as the Donagons olde fella, I was really struggling to absorb the bumps. I decided to stop and the edge of the steep bit with some other people and just look over it to decide if we had the balls to go.. This is when injury one happened! As I said to myself, Beeston, Beeston, Beeston Katz R go! some nazi took me out, and went right between me and these other guys at some high, out of control speed. He clipped my shoulder and made the decesion for me about going over the edge. As I pulled myself off the ground further down the slope I noticed that I had pulled my neck, which only proceeded to get stiffer as we got down the hill.
As you can see I went into shock, and thought I was going to miss the rest of the week!After what can only be described as Sauna, massage and lots of drink in the evening, followed by massage and crazy stretching followed by a copius amount of drugs. I made it out and tried to put a brave face on it. The group went over to the next valley for the day, but because I could not turn my head one way, I was moving my shoulders to look down slope. For all you boarders out there you can imagine that this meant that I could only turn one way but could fall on my arse the other.
I think this was stage 1, the infant stage, of the condition commonly know as Riggymortis..
After a sulk and a couple of outbursts to Dorris, I decided it would be best for everyone if I went back to the Challet. I had a little rest and was ready for dinner. Can I just say, which may be as shocking as the above picture, I wasn't the worst drinker at the table from our group. After drinking the free red wine that started to taste better the more you drank, I can remember the words from the kitchen that still make me laugh!...'10 littres theirs only 8 of them!' and so the drinking monster that was Lori was formed. I felt like Gandalf in the mines of Moria, old and wise but shocked at the Balrog! The monster from the deep!
Rusty the Gray woke the next morning and after his ritual massage, wiered dancing and lots of drug taking. The neck was a bit better and hit the slopes again. The rest of the week became a bit of a blur, a cyclic emotional ride of: I'm bad, look at me.. to crunch - Agh, meah Riggy and then the fear... Back to the blue slopes to get legs back, reduction of fear factor, and then might as well try this black slope. As you guessed this added to the condition of Riggymortis.. With a 
couple of days left and being well into stage 3 of Riggymortis, I jokingly mentioned that I would prefer to fall on my face then keep landing on the bruised riggy. Well, the snow gods were listening that day and about 20minutes later, I looked like a Weeble on a board, wobbling one way and then the other and then I tasted the lovely Austrian snow. After pulling my nose out the snow and wiping the blood of my face, I grabbed a handfull of snow and stopped the bleeding. Onwards and upwards I thought! Time to conquer piste 11B, the one that crippled me at the start of the week. I flew down the slope taking all the bumps and avoiding the kamikaze skiers and got to the last slope, the easy bit towards the bar, deckchairs and chairlift. Satisfied that I had achieved my goal, started to make my way to the bar, when out of no where, I caught and edge and the ground came up to say hello. After lying on the floor for a few minutes, moaning. Hannah helped me to my feet, and by the look on her face realised that it wasn't good. My sun glasses had imbedded themselve into my forehead and once pulled out I decided to bleed on the slope. After the nice doctor proceeded to give me five stiches in my head, he proceeded to ask me to bend over and touch my toes, while he gave me the bill. After being the laughing stock of the Challet for having a bruised nose, eye and stiches, I sat down to plough into the free wine, and thats when it hit me. You may bust your nose and get some stiches, but there aint know pain like bruised Riggy. Yeah get meah, I don't fink ya do!
couple of days left and being well into stage 3 of Riggymortis, I jokingly mentioned that I would prefer to fall on my face then keep landing on the bruised riggy. Well, the snow gods were listening that day and about 20minutes later, I looked like a Weeble on a board, wobbling one way and then the other and then I tasted the lovely Austrian snow. After pulling my nose out the snow and wiping the blood of my face, I grabbed a handfull of snow and stopped the bleeding. Onwards and upwards I thought! Time to conquer piste 11B, the one that crippled me at the start of the week. I flew down the slope taking all the bumps and avoiding the kamikaze skiers and got to the last slope, the easy bit towards the bar, deckchairs and chairlift. Satisfied that I had achieved my goal, started to make my way to the bar, when out of no where, I caught and edge and the ground came up to say hello. After lying on the floor for a few minutes, moaning. Hannah helped me to my feet, and by the look on her face realised that it wasn't good. My sun glasses had imbedded themselve into my forehead and once pulled out I decided to bleed on the slope. After the nice doctor proceeded to give me five stiches in my head, he proceeded to ask me to bend over and touch my toes, while he gave me the bill. After being the laughing stock of the Challet for having a bruised nose, eye and stiches, I sat down to plough into the free wine, and thats when it hit me. You may bust your nose and get some stiches, but there aint know pain like bruised Riggy. Yeah get meah, I don't fink ya do!
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