Button Lifts

Still feeling the effects slightly of last weekend in St Moritz, so back to Mussolini's Cervinia. Unfortunately the main ski lift was out of action so I was forced into using the dreaded button lift. What a pressure, with 200 people cueing behind, it was the only way up the mountain. I couldn't fall I had to get it right.

With brute strength and determination I gripped that button with everything I had, and then it hit, my weight came on to the tow and I was catapulted up the mountain. I was still standing, despite feeling I had been kicked in the butt by a mule I was moving. The skiers in front of me cheekily darted from side to side, but I held my line and kept my focus.

By now my grip was wilting, but I couldn't fall off now, I was half way, would I ski back down, or walk humiliated upwards? The tow started to level out I sighed and relaxed my grip, and then, downhill. Downhill! On a button lift, on a slippery board with one foot out of its binding what sort of cruel joke was being played on me?. Not knowing how to control my speed I started to make ground on the skier in front me who was quite oblivious to my slight problem, but of which he would shortly surely become aware. But I was saved, up we went again, and the finishing post was within sight. I had made it, now only another 4 to go.