The snow squeaks under the skis as he clicks his boots into place. A light gray plume of breath escapes him before he starts off with a push. The air starts to rush by as his visor reflects gold and white. Rolling hills stand in waiting below the sloaps but seem to start off in a hurry to meet him as soon as he accelerates. A few moments pass and his skis leave the ground, he holds his breath and the world stops as he is near suspended in the air. A moment more and he flies violently down the slopes and shouts in delight.