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tripleaxelrose · 2 years

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Per the rules, there is no hugging. No high-fives. No visitors in the dorms. No congregating. Masks are required at all times, except when eating, sleeping, training, competing, or speaking to the press.

The village is designed to be a self-contained bubble. There are stores. Fast food. A nail salon. There are endless, perfectly timed little green buses that shuttle them from the doorstep of the dorms, to the venues, to their mandatory daily testing and back again. The process is seamless, closed, and safe, except when it is none of those things.

He laughs, for example, when he gets to his room and finds, laid out on his bed, a welcome pack that includes a box of 10 condoms. He laughs partly at the absurdity -- are we using the condoms or are not high-fiving? -- and partly because he still has some at home with the Pyeongchang 2018 logo. It occurs to him, a little too suddenly, that this is actually pretty sad.

The village has no enforced perimeter that he can see. (He is smart enough to know that this does not mean that one does not exist.) But the boldface type on the rules page is clear: Breaking the bubble means quarantine, a repeat of the twenty-steps-long testing protocol required for entry, and, in particularly concerning cases, deportation. Fear of going home too early, of missing an event or even just a few practices, is the true enforcer.

So they find a spot. It is outdoors, around the side of his looming, many-storied dorm building, on a depressing patch of sparse gravel that's in the shade for much of the day and therefore offers them a better-than-nothing shot at inconspicuousness. It at least offers them enough space to talk without a dozen people around. Away from Coach's roving, nervous eye. And technically, he reminds her again and again, they are not breaking any rules.

They stand three-feet apart, as recommended by the IOC, always in masks. Sometimes they sneak food out of the cafeteria. It is the most they will allow themselves ahead of the competition. Today it is bubble tea, which is auto-prepared by a machine to minimize contact. (Hers: taro milk tea with lychee jelly, 100% sweetness. His: black tea with boba, 25%.) They sip carefully under their masks, hopping from one foot to the other in the cold.

They arrange these meetings furtively on the cheap burner phones that almost everyone on the United States team is using as a security precaution, all of them weary of hackers and heeding the advice of their worried federations. It's unclear to him, frankly, what a bunch of predominantly teenage skaters and skiers could have on their phones that would be of strategic value to the Chinese government, but he's not in the mood to find out. Later, there will be fawning stories in business magazines about how he left his phone home in order to focus on the competition. Technically, he reasons, it's the truth.

They talk about the village (ugly, difficult to navigate), the dorm beds (surprisingly comfortable), the food (decent). They gossip about who tested positive, about the terrifying rumors swirling around the official quarantine facilities (inedible food, aggressive nurses, untreated symptoms, roaches). They complain about Coach, which is standard. They analyze the minutiae of their practices, roll their eyes over the Russians, dissect their formidable competition, complain that the team uniforms just aren't that comfortable.

They talk about everything but the fact that he kissed her. That she has not said anything at all about it since it happened. The empty, undiscussed space of it sits in his chest every time he meets her here. Sometimes he swears things have actually changed between them in the last few weeks, that there are small differences. That she forgets herself -- and the rules -- and lets their arms touch when they walk. That she texts him late to talk about nothing in particular. Sometimes just to say goodnight. That she is suddenly willing to tell him, at least partially, about the fear that's he sees swimming behind her dark eyes. That he knows is there this week and next. In every competition, for her whole life.

"Look, I'm not going to win," she says, kicking at a piece of gravel near her toe. "That's just the math. And I learned to live with that a long time ago. But if I really screw it up. On TV. That's the headline the next day, you know? That's my career."

"No, that's not true."

"It's the biggest event of the entire games. I mean, no offense or anything."

He laughs, raking a hand through his hair. "As someone who has fucked it up really badly on live TV in the second biggest Olympic event, I can tell you. I lived. A fall on a combination doesn't kill you. Usually, anyway."

She smiles under her mask, but he can tell it's a sad smile, one that doesn't quite make it all the way up to her eyes. "But I'm not like you," she says, looking away from him. "I am not in any history book, and I am sure as hell not going to Yale."

He wants to put his arms around her. (No high-fiving. No hugs. Three feet of distance.) Instead, he rests a gloved hand on the side of her face. "Listen. No, seriously, look at me for a second. You are a U.S. national champion, so you already got your history book, regardless of what happens. And Yale is fine, and honestly kind of sucked at times, but I'm still figuring that whole thing out. And whatever you do next week or next year, you will figure it out. Because god knows if I can..."

She covers his hand with hers and draws it down from her face, but she keeps holding on. Then her expression changes, a sideways tilt of her head.

"You never told me that you had a hard time at Yale."

"I really wanted it not to. I maybe thought that if I didn't tell you, or anyone, it wouldn't."

"Like if you just try to get through it, the difficult parts will..."

"Disappear," he says, his voice colliding with hers. "Or just not feel so difficult."

They are quiet for a moment. He steps away from her, taking back his hand and she smiles for real this time, points at his glove.

"Don't let 'em deport you over that."

"You'll defend me to the IOC, right?"

"Any time," she says with a serious nod.

His phone buzzes. A reminder alarm. He needs to be at the rink in ten minutes. He's running late. He makes his apologies. "You'll be there for the short?"

She folds her arms. "Where the hell else would I be? Getting my nails done?"

"Good," he says. "I'll look for you. But we'll talk before then."

"We will," she says with a nod.

They do.

He wins the short program 24 hours later. He sets a new world record.

#mariah bell #nathan chen #my fic

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usafphantom2 · 2 years

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USAF tests new engine to improve the polar abilities of the LC-130 equipped with ski

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 10/21/2022 - 11:00 in Military

The 109th Air Transport Wing of the New York Air Guard recently tested a new engine for the ski-equipped LC-130 that is ready to improve the capacity of air transport in the Arctic and Antarctica.

A crew of seven aviators flew the LC-130 "Skibird" with the new 3.5 NP2000 T56-A-15A turboproper upgrades for the first time at Stratton National Air Guard Base on October 11.

“These new engines will be a watershed for the unit,” said master sergeant Christopher Dumond, flight engineer at the 109th AW.

An LC-130H aircraft equipped with ski tests the T56-15A (3.5 modified) engines with recently revised NP2000 propellers. (Photo: US Air Force)

“Combined with the NP2000 eight-blade propellers of the LC-130H, this 3.5 engine is the final part of the NP2000 system; modernizing the 109a fleet into a more powerful polar air transport force,” Dumond added.

A turboprop is basically similar to a turbojet, except that an additional turbine, at the rear of the combustion chamber, works through a shaft and speed-reducing gears to spin a propeller in front of the engine.

The new engine upgrades are based on previous improvements to the NP2000 propellers, fully integrated into the fleet in 2019, the NP2000 propellers have eight blades instead of the four in the legacy engines.

These high-tech propellers increase torque for accelerated takeoffs on ice and snow and simplify maintenance requirements.

As the 109th Air Transport Wing operates the only LC-130 Hercules aircraft equipped with ski from the Department of Defense, the wing is deployed annually in the cold and austere environments of Greenland and Antarctica in support of the National Science Foundation (NSF).

The wing provides heavy air transport and transportation with the largest ski-equipped aircraft in the world to the NSF in both locations.

Occasionally, skibirds have problems taking off from icy surfaces from these areas of operation, due to heavy loads or friction braking under the skis.

Previously, jet-assisted take-off (JATO) bottles were attached to the aircraft and used to create extra thrust to get skiers out of snow or ice and into the air. The production of the JATO system, however, ended in 1991. Updated engines and their capabilities will fill this void.

“The power of these new updates is apparent in the seat,” said Major Patrick Newton, a 109th driver. “The difference is something we definitely have to adjust, but it improves our capabilities and makes us more effective,” Newton added.

The future of the program will have the revision of the wing of the engine systems of four additional aircraft in the next season of flights in Greenland in April 2023 and the entire fleet in the next implementation of Operation Deep Freeze of 2023 and 2024.

Tags: Military AviationLC-130 SkibirdUSAF - United States Air Force / US Air Force

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Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. It has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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colsonlin · 1 year

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“Alibi” (2010) — a dark comedy inspired by “Heathers” and “Mean Girls”

This massive space reeks of white privilege. The interior designer—an up-and-coming celebrity who had logged ten appearances on the final hour of the Today show before he was convicted last year of drugging a teenage boy—had called the color scheme “Immaculate Frost.” Immaculate, indeed. The family room, predominantly white with hints of silver and cappuccino, is anchored by a window wall adorned by sheer white curtains. It is afternoon. Wintry sunlight streams in through the window, sheathing in bright light a mahogany coffee table at the center of the room. Magazines line the bottom shelf—Harper’s, Lapham’s Quarterly, The Paris Review, Yale Alumni Magazine. The owners of this home are exquisitely educated—they will deign to read The New Yorker or The Economist only if they are at the dentist’s, and there is nothing but Highlights to flip through in the waiting room. Everything about this living room is “tasteful”—even the bright pink throw pillows on the two white sofas and two white armchairs flanking the coffee table, which have no right to be tasteful, are tasteful. A white stuffed lamb above a row of Christmas stockings hanging from the fireplace watches over the living room—the Christmas lights are up. A Christmas tree in the corner of the room is ornamented by angels.

Mahler plays from the surround-sound speakers.

Lying on the floor and tucked between the white sofa and the mahogany coffee table is Alyssa White.

You know Alyssa already, and not just because she has cappuccino tresses and a waist the size of a curling iron. Alyssa was the girl in middle school who while her friends dated high school boys, herself would date a college freshman, and while her friends dated college freshmen, herself would date a six-foot-two Ecuadorian skier with emerald-green eyes who in some other century might have washed Alyssa’s clothes—it’s a good thing the wealth of the Global North liquidated across the equator. Alyssa makes Heather No. 1 look like a Girl Scout. She makes Regina George look like Shirley Temple. She wears pink lip gloss and white cowboy boots and, as the century draws to a close, she’s lying in a fresh pool of blood.

It's December 25, 1999.

Alyssa’s hands, arms, chest, back, stomach, and hair—yes, even her hair—are covered in raw blood.

“Moral violence.”

Not that it ever went away, but for a century that represses so much envy, it’s now back with a vengeance.

Alyssa reaches out her right hand and places it weakly on the white sofa. Her left hand tries to grab the side of the coffee table, but she loses her balance—a stack of Lapham’s Quarterly tips over, hitting her on the head. She tries to lift herself off the floor again—this time, her left hand strikes a silver tea tray on the mahogany coffee table, sending three teacups crashing into the floor. “Come back,” she croaks hoarsely. “Please. I’m a person. I’m a person. I’m a person.” As she says this, she begins to weep, until her weeping turns into labored gasps of air.

Until finally—

silence.

“G! I! L-T-Y—you ain’t got no a-li-bi, you guilty! Yeah, yeah—you guilty!” the white stuffed lamb begins to hum, as the playful gold bars of Mahler No. 3 sprinkle across the room.

II.

You should know right away that Asians own this home—Asian-Americans, the father is a philosopher and the mother is a therapist. When the lights come back on, it is evening, and Alyssa’s body is still on the floor. The red and blue swirl of police lights entangle the room. For all their tasteful accoutrements, the Yangs must be new money—the walls of their home are gaunt enough that we can hear the crackle of police transmissions outside, and the busybody neighbors who have crowded onto the Yangs’ front lawn.

A murderer is in the room.

On the blood-stained sofa, three lanky girls—Jamie Donahue (17), Madison Yang (17), and Abby Liddell (18)—sit with their arms folded and their legs crossed at the knees.

They look like a macabre spread in Vogue France.

To see these three girls together is to see the undoing of any arrogance you might have once had about your own appearance. Do teenage girls really look like this—their arms and legs thinned to such nuance Kate Moss would beam green with envy? Jamie, Madison, Abby, and Alyssa formed the in-crowd within the in-crowd at the School of Ethical Culture (tuition in 1999: $21,342). Jamie is thin and African-American. Madison is thin and Asian-American.

Abby is thin and white.

“You forget how much blood there is in the human body,” Jamie muses out loud to nobody in particular. “I mean it’s just not something you really think about, I guess—you know?”

“Six quarts,” Madison says.

Jamie turns to Madison. “What?”

“Six quarts. Our biology teacher in seventh grade showed us using pig’s blood and empty bottles of Pennzoil—it was so disgusting. He gave us all a turn dumping out six quarts of blood into the sink—he said it was so if we were ever canceled, we would know exactly how much blood we could lose before we exsanguinate. So that’s how I know—six quarts.”

“And how many quarts can you lose before you exsanguinate?”

Madison shrugs. “Two, I think?”

Jamie studies the pool of blood on the floor. “That looks like a lot more than two quarts of blood,” she says awkwardly. “I mean right?” She laughs. “That looks more like eight!”

“It reminds me of the time my cousin miscarried on the freeway,” Madison continues.

“Oh my god—for real?”

“For real—she lost so much blood, like it was all over her seat and stuff and then it started dripping onto the floor. I was sitting next to her—my shoes were moist.”

“Oh my god—stop.”

“Like when I stepped out of the car, I had footprints.”

“Oh my god—stop. You know what would be so fucked up? If we like, stained our shoes with Ally’s blood and we like, walked around all over the house and we like, made the detectives,” Jamie bursts out laughing, “follow our footprints.”

Madison laughs too. “Oh my god—what if we like, walked into my parents’ room and tracked her footprints to their bed?”

“That would be so ridiculous.”

“I know, right?”

“Oh, man—the pigs would never buy it though,” Jamie smiles, turning to look at Abby. “Sorry, Abby.”

Abby, who has been staring into the floor this whole time, turns to Madison and Jamie.

“The blood just means we’re human.”

“What?” Jamie says.

Abby continues softly: “The blood. All it means is it came from a person. We’re all people. It’s the same blood in Ally as it is in you, as it is in me—you see a pool of blood on the floor and you don’t know if it came from a black person or a white person, or a gay person or a straight person, or a fat person or a skinny person. You just know it came from a person. It came from a person.” Her voice begins to break. “And so you cry.”

A pause.

“You cry. Because it came from a person.”

“Abby?” Jamie says, repressing a giggle. “Animals bleed.”

“Not like people they don’t,” Abby says, shaking her head. “Anyway, it’s not like we’re Rebecca on Sunnybrook Farm and surrounded by animals all the time—all I’m trying to say is when you see a pool of blood on the floor, like in the hallway at Ethical Culture, you know it didn’t come from an animal—you know it didn’t come from a cow or a horse or a pigeon. You know somebody was canceled that day.”

Jamie turns to Madison. “I think she’s losing it.”

“But Jamie! It came from a person! A per-son!”

Jamie and Madison burst out laughing, while Abby rises from the sofa. “Go to hell. Both of you.”

“Abby,” Madison says. “we’re not the ones who cut Ally up like a chopped salad.”

“Careful, Madison—we still don’t know where she hid the knife.”

“Maybe it’s with Rebecca on Sunnybrook Farm,” Madison says with a high-pitched squeal, and they both laugh.

“I didn’t do this.”

Jamie gasps. “You know what I just remembered?”

“What?” Madison says, still laughing.

“Remember that time in seventh grade when Alyssa told Andrew that Abby was a hermaphrodite, and Abby told Alyssa that the only way she would ever forgive her was if Alyssa gave her a mea culpa?”

“Oh my god—I do remember, that was so weird.”

“And everyone was like, Abby, what the fuck is a mea culpa? And Abby started talking about—” Jamie can’t stop laughing now, “thetooth fairy—and black people?”

“Oh my god—shut up!”

“And like how her grandfather died in the Holocaust even though he wasn’t Jewish?”

“Oh my god—stop,” Madison gasps, keeled over in laughter now. After a few seconds they both settle down, and Jamie looks at Madison with a serious face. “Madison,” she whispers. “I think somebody owes Alyssa—a mea culpa.”

Jamie and Madison both burst out laughing.

Abby, who has been silently crying to herself, wipes her eyes dry and turns to go upstairs. A gust of wind from the furnace vent ruffles her airy sundress almost to her waist. Her strawberry blonde hair and bright white sundress bounce in the air as she saunters up the stairs.

III.

Abby is alone in the upstairs bathroom now, running the faucet—behind her in the mirror is a rainforest shower made of black granite. “The most important thing you learn about as a kid isn’t where babies come from,” she whispers into the mirror. “Or that the tooth fairy was just your dad slipping a quarter under your pillow while you were asleep. It’s that slavery happened. And the Holocaust happened. It’s that cruelty exists in this world.”

Abby opens a drawer in the sink and takes out a silver nail file. “The first cruel person I ever learned about was Hitler—Hitler is who most people lose their cruelty virginity to, I think.” She begins filing her nails over the sink. “And then you learn about how they treated black people in the ’60s, and that in the 1800s, black people were enslaved—like cattle. So by the time some fact-box in your eighth-grade world history textbook tries to tell you that Stalin actually ged twice as many people as Hitler did, you’re already numb. It’s like—what the fuck is wrong with people? You know?”

Abby hums a few bars of Mahler No. 3 to herself.

“But the thing is, you don’t have to go all the way back to Siberia or Nazi Germany or even the Confederacy to understand what cruelty is. As Mahler himself once said: ‘Cruelty is a certain look on a man’s face when he looks down on another man.’ This? This right here—is cruelty,” she says, pointing to the Yangs’ rainforest shower. “Really, it doesn’t even matter if I canceled Alyssa or not—and I didn’t. But it doesn’t matter. Because moral superiority—can be every bit as cruel, every bit as despicable, and every bit as barbaric as moral evil.” Abby finishes filing her nails and turns off the faucet.

She opens the same drawer from before and plucks out a bottle of blue nail polish. “But I didn’t cancel Alyssa,” she continues, applying the nail polish to her nails. “Okay, it’s true—we did have a falling-out over Thanksgiving. We haven’t spoken to each other in almost a month. But Alyssa and I have been best friends since middle school. We love each other. She was like my sister. Ow!” Some blue nail polish has seeped into an open cut on Abby’s finger, next to a nail bed. Abby blows her finger dry and then runs some water over it.

She turns off the faucet and shakes her fingers twice.

“Last night,” Abby continues, grabbing a hand towel, “Madison invited me to spend the night at her house—her parents are still in Taiwan, I think? She invited Alyssa over this afternoon without telling her I was here too. The plan was for me to stay upstairs until Madison came up to get me, and then we’d be forced into the same room together to work things out. So that’s what I did. I stayed in Madison’s room all afternoon after Madison let Alyssa in downstairs. All I could hear from the living room—was Christmas music.”

A closeup of the Yangs’ rainforest shower dissolves into the Yangs’ living room—it is now 3:14 in the afternoon. Sunlight streams in from the ivy-covered windows. Mahler No. 3 is still playing from the surround-sound speakers.

The front door opens.

“Ally? Look who I found outside.”

Two pairs of Jimmy Choos step into the front foyer as the front door closes. “Ally, are you in here?” Madison says, carrying a box of donuts into the living room. “Oh my god.”

“Holy shit,” Jamie, coming in after her, gasps.

Alyssa White is lying in a pool of blood in between the white sofa and the black mahogany coffee table.

“Abby?”

“Oh my god.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Holy shit!”

“Abby?”

“See if she’s still breathing.”

“Abby? Abby!”

“Maddie—let’s get out of here.”

“Abby! Abby! Where the fuck is Abby?”

A door opens upstairs. “Maddie—is everything okay?”

“Abby, what the fuck did you do?”

“What?” a girlish voice calls from the second floor.

Abby’s feet appear on the stairs, just below the living room ceiling—her nails are painted cobalt blue. When she sees Alyssa’s body she gasps, covering her mouth.

She emits a single syllable: “—no!”

“Abby—what happened?”

A pause. Abby lowers her hand from her face and blinks twice. “I just woke up.”

“We have to get out of here,” Jamie whispers.

“Right, and Alyssa just decided to stab herself fifty times over my coffee table—that makes sense; maybe she read something really menacing in ‘Harper’s Index’!”

“I had nothing to do with this.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my parents?”

“I’m calling my dad,” Jamie says.

Abby begins to cry. “I just woke up—Jamie, say something. You believe me, don’t you? I was upstairs this whole time!”

“Ally—there is something really, really wrong with you,” Jamie says. “You don’t want to know how I feel about you right now. Let’s just put it this way. I see angels near your soul. ”

IV.

Alibis are either/or—you can’t be in two places at once, emotionally maybe, but not spatially. Abby’s sobs are clearly audible from the bathroom upstairs. In the front yard, a detective is interviewing a next-door neighbor.

“There goes the waterworks again,” Jamie says.

“I know, right?” Madison says. “It reminds me of the time Abby wore all-black to school for a month after her brother was hit by that wrong-way driver.”

“It’s an Anglican tradition,” Abby says from the top of the stairs. “Andy spent four days in a coma before my parents decided to pull the plug. It was the worst day of my life.”

Jamie whispers to Madison: “Won’t be for long.”

“Are you guys really going to go through with this? Are you guys really going to tell everyone I canceled Alyssa?”

“Why Abby, what in the world would ever possess you to say such a thing? We’re not going to keep our mouths shut for you,” Jamie says. “We owe it to justice.”

“The future is fear,” Abby whispers.

“Abby,” Madison says gently. “I want you to take a really good look at what you did to Alyssa. I mean, whatever happens to you—you kinda deserve it, don’t you think?”

“It doesn’t bother you? After everything we’ve been through together, Madison—it doesn’t bother you that I’m about to be canceled? Not even a little bit?”

“Of course it bothers me,” Jamie says. “Abby, we love you. You, Ally, and Maddie are like the sisters I never had. Ally loved you so much—you were always her favorite.”

“When was the last time somebody was canceled at our school?” Madison asks.

“Aidan Doberman, in August.”

“You’re right—oh I forgot about Aidan. Poor Aidan.”

“Poor Aidan? He beat up his girlfriend.”

“Don’t tell you me actually believe Angie.”

“Angel.”

“It’s so Aidan to hook up with a freshman.”

“Oh my god—you totally had the hots for Aidan!”

“Did not.”

“You totally did!” Jamie snorts out a laugh. “He didn’t look so good cut up into four pieces, did he?”

“Jamie, I did not have the hots for Aidan. I just think Angie Montez is a lying hoebag—she clearly said what she said because she wanted the attention. And now she’s the only sophomore on the varsity soccer team—what a coincidence.”

“Did you go to Aidan’s disembowelment?”

“No, only the bonfire.”

“Oh really, I was there for all of it—the kidnapping, the decapitation, the disembowelment, the quartering.”

Abby quickly descends down the stairs. Her face looks sickly and pale. “I have to go now,” she says.

“What’s the matter, Abby?” Jamie calls out.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, wow—you see, Madison? This is the type of poor impulse control that gets people canceled.”

“Abby, don’t go,” Madison says.

Abby looks at Madison quizzically. “I have to tell my parents what happened. I have to—say goodbye.”

“Look, you might not be canceled after all—I mean, a lot of people did hate Ally.”

“Madison!” Jamie says.

“What? I’m just being honest. This might not be able to attract enough—popular outrage.”

“What Madison’s trying to say is we’re going to be there for every part of your cancelation—I’ll even bring home one of your bones to have it embossed, how does that sound?”

“Jamie,” Abby says, staring into Jamie’s eyes. “Someday, everyone will see you for the evil little witch you are. And when that day comes?” Abby opens the front door. “I wouldn’t be shy about withdrawing from my 401(k) if I were you.”

In the doorway, Abby takes one last look at Jamie, then at Madison, and then closes the door. Madison watches as Abby waves goodbye to a police officer and enters her car. She turns to Jamie. “I can’t believe we pulled this off,” she whispers.

“Did you see her face?”

“She’s totally clueless!”

“This is so sane.”

“I’m so glad this is over.”

“I know—what a relief.”

“I can’t wait for January.”

“But Maddie—I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to wait until January anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Well, remember what you said about Abby’s brother being dead? Abby’s an only child now. Her parents will do anything to protect her—even if it means moving her out of the country. She might not even be here in January.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that.”

“Why not?”

“What are her parents going to do—send her to Malta? They’re white trash. They don’t have the resources to send her out of town that quickly. As soon as everyone finds out what Abby did, they’ll show up to her apartment with pitchforks—I’ll make sure of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Jamie. There’s no way they’re moving Abby out of town in a week—don’t be ridiculous.”

“Your parents on the other hand.”

“Oh my god—I’d be on a plane to Fiji this evening,” Madison says, plopping down on the sofa.

She looks at Jamie and smiles. “So can I ask you something?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, here we go.”

“I’m just curious—what were her last words?”

“That’s the thing, she didn’t really have any last words. It was a total surprise—she just said, ‘Jamie, what are you doing?’ She didn’t see it coming at all.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Well, you’re not going to believe this, but when I was stabbing her, she kept saying, ‘I’m a person, I’m a per-son.’”

“No way.”

“Over and over again. Isn’t that weird? Are you sure Abby couldn’t have woken up somehow?”

“I’m sure—you know how Abby is, she’s always so dramatic and over-the-top. I’m sure it was just a coincidence.”

“I hope so.”

“Look, Jamie—you’ve had a stressful day.”

“I don’t want to be canceled for this.”

“You won’t be. We’re in this together, okay? Trust me.”

“Okay.”

“Do you trust me?”

Jamie looks at Madison. “Of course I do, bee-otch.”

“Good. Now let’s get the fuck out of here—I’m going to let the police inside to clean up the mess.”

Jamie stands up and walks over to look at Alyssa’s body. “She’s so bloated,” she says, crinkling her nose.

“That’s what happens to people when they die. The bacteria in Ally’s body is breaking down her tissue and releasing hydrogen and nitrogen into her epidermis, the space between her fat cells and her skin. All the while, the cells in her body are decomposing and literally eating themselves. It’s called autolysis. It’s disgusting, but without it, the Romans would have never invented wine.”

“You’re going to be such amazing doctor someday.”

“And you’re going to be the perfect lawyer.”

Jamie stands up from the couch, grabs her purse, and begins walking to the front door. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, my love. See you tomorrow.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Alone in the living room now, Madison Yang turns to the window and watches as Jamie’s silhouette recedes into the police lights. She loosens her scrunchie and then fixes her hair back into a ponytail. “Jamie and I—we’ve been through a lot over the years. She lives three blocks away—we practically grew up together. My dad’s a professor and her dad’s a state senator—they were in the same graduating class at Yale Law. When we were little, we used to sneak into the Voglers’ backyard, whenever their gate was unlocked, and swim naked in their swimming pool. Jamie’s bulimic, of course—you probably can’t tell since we’re all so skinny, or you probably just thought we all had eating disorders, but no.”

She shakes her head.

“Just Jamie.”

Madison rises from the sofa and walks over to a mirror above the fireplace. “Her breath always smells like Listerine. I love Jamie, and I’m totally not proud of what I’m about to do to her—but she’s become such an angry person lately. All she ever talks about anymore is the next person she wants to see canceled. I mean, you can’t really blame her—appearances can be deceiving, you know. She’s had a rough life. Her mom was canceled three years ago, in the parking lot of Whole Foods, two days after arguing with this guy over some minor road-rage incident. It changed Jamie forever. I mean, her dad had the guy canceled of course—and the guy’s two accomplices, and their wives and children. You don’t fuck with the family of a state senator. Which is why I had to be very, very careful.”

Madison picks up the stuffed lamb.

“But all the evidence is here,” Madison continues. “I mean, how was I supposed to know that this stuffed lamb was actually a camera? Remember when I said appearances can be deceiving?” She giggles. “My parents come home on Monday. They’re going to find the video of Jamie stabbing Alyssa, they’re going to turn it over to Alyssa’s parents, and I’m going to show Andrew the photographs. Jamie will be cancelled by Wednesday. I mean it's Alyssa for God’s sake—people aren’t going to wait to ask any questions. People don’t want answers—they want solutions. You know, if Abby were smart, she’d be telling the world about Alyssa’s cancelation as we speak—she’s the only one out of all three of us who actually has an alibi. She had an admissions interview with a guy from Brown at Starbucks at 2. Alyssa was killed at 2:15.”

Madison sets down the stuffed lamb.

“I told Jamie I had crushed two Ambiens into Abby’s hibiscus tea. If Jamie had only thought about it some more, she would have remembered: white trash doesn’t drink tea. Oh well. The thing is, Alyssa and Jamie are legitimately garbage people—they have no sense of compassion or empathy for anything that happens to anyone they’ve dehumanized. Abby’s a good girl. We all make fun of her, but I’m the only one who sees her for who she really is. She’s someone—just like me.”

“’scuse me miss?” a voice from the front door knocks twice and interrupts.

Madison turns around and smiles.

“You can come in now, officer,” Madison says sweetly. “Everything’s finally under control now.”

VII.

“…Baby One More Time” by Britney Spears is playing from the surround-sound speakers. Abby and Madison are in the living room—sunlight streams in through the ivy-covered windows. Alyssa’s body is gone—her bloodstains are gone too. The black mahogany coffee table is once again immaculately arranged—not a teacup is out of place. The Christmas lights, however, are no longer up. Maddie and Abigail are sitting on the floor, decorating a Christmas tree in the center of the room. “Where’d you get this one?” Abby says, giggling as she pulls out a resin ornament from the cardboard box.

“I have no idea,” Madison says.

“Why’s she naked?”

“Because she’s an angel.”

“Are all your angels naked?”

“Abby, I would appreciate it if you didn’t make fun of my Christmas iconography, thank you very much,” Madison says, snatching the ornament from Abby’s hand. “I don’t make fun of your dreidels.”

“I don’t have any dreidels.”

“Dreidel, dreidel, dreidel—I made it out of clay. The first boy who it lands on—is the first boy I shall lay.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Okay, don’t be mad—I have something to tell you.”

“What.”

“I was talking to Jamie the other day—”

“About what, money?”

“—and Jamie was telling me how she had this crazy idea to cancel Alyssa—”

Abby’s eyes widen.

“—and frame you for it.”

Abby gasps. “What!”

“I know—can you believe it? And I was like, okay, Jamie, keep talking. And Jamie was like, I’m only telling you this because we grew up together and you’re my best friend in the whole entire world and if I can’t swim naked with you, I can’t swim naked with anyone, and I was like, oh my god Jamie, you’re my sister, I love you, you can tell me anything—and basically we just like crawled up each other’s assholes for a few minutes before she finally spat out the point. She goes, remember when Aidan Doberman was canceled this summer for beating up his girlfriend, and like, the entire baseball team was in on it—Andrew, Addison, Lance—which is the great thing about our school, everybody roots for the underdog? And I was like, yeah? And she basically told me that if we worked together, we could cancel Alyssa and frame you for it.”

“Oh my god. Have you told Alyssa yet?”

“Of course not.”

“What? Why the hell not—what if Jamie goes through with it?”

“Will you let me finish?”

“What’s there to finish?”

“Look, Abby—I’m doing you a huge favor here. I mean, now that you and Ally are fighting, you do have a motive for canceling her—everyone at Ethical Culture knows that.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, let me finish.”

Abby stares at Madison uneasily. “Okay. Finish.”

“I told Jamie, I’ll do it.”

“Okay.”

“And, so—we came up with a plan to cancel Alyssa this weekend and frame you for it.”

Abby nods slowly—she’s visibly shaken. She puts the angel ornament she’s holding back into the box.

“Okay. I think I should go home now.”

“Abby, wait a minute—do you really think that if I was going to go through with Jamie’s plan, I would have you over today and tell you about it?”

“I don’t know, Maddie. You know how powerful Jamie is, how her father had those four kids canceled.”

“I know,” Madison says as she rises from the floor.

“Maddie, I’m scared,” Abby says. “I don’t want you to do anything stupid—I don’t want you to hurt anyone.”

“Abby, will you shut the fuck up and listen to me?” Madison says, approaching the fireplace. “I have an idea.”

“What? What is it, Maddie—what’s your brilliant idea?”

“Jamie is going to cancel Alyssa—right in this room. And I’m going to help her. But she doesn’t know one thing. There’s a camera in here,” Madison says, tossing the white stuffed lamb to Abby. Abby catches the stuffed lamb and looks at it.

“In Biryani?”

“Look, you said your interview with that guy from Brown’s this Friday, right? Is there any chance you can get it pushed back to Saturday?”

“But Saturday’s Christmas.”

“I know. Jesus riseth!” Madison squeals.

“We’re going to have to talk about this.”

“We will—we’ll talk about it. But Abby, don’t you get it yet? It could be just you and me. Instead of playing third and fourth fiddle to Alyssa and Jamie, we could rule the School of Ethical Culture. And I know for a fact that the only person who hates Alyssa and Jamie more than I do—is you.”

Abby nods.

“Okay? Abby, you can trust me.”

“I know.”

“I promise.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to go make us a drink. I’m thinking—bloody marys?”

“Funny.”

“Be right back, bee-otch.”

Madison walks over to Abby on the floor, grabs the stuffed lamb from her hands, squeezes her shoulder twice, and then goes into the kitchen.

The sunlight begins to fade.

Abby is alone in the living room now. She stands up and walks over to the surround sound. She turns off “…Baby One More Time” and switches the C.D. to Gustav Mahler.

“We called our plan ‘lick its toes,’” she says. “Madison came up with the codename—it’s just each word in ‘kill the sluts’ spelled out backwards: Llik eht stuls. Clever, right? Madison Yang is nothing if not a very clever girl. She already got into Harvard early. She’ll probably graduate summa cum laude, get a 40 on her MCATs, go to Harvard Med, and become a brain surgeon or something—you know, whatever the highest-paying specialty is. She’ll spend the rest of her life saving lives—isn’t it ironic? Do you have any idea how many girls she’s stepped on to get where she is; how many people she’s pushed off the totem pole? The thing is, nobody really likes Madison Yang except for the only two people more popular and powerful than she is—that’s right. Jamie Donahue and Alyssa White. They love Madison, because having someone like Madison as a friend makes them look inclusive or something. The truth is, I think they actually admire Madison. Madison’s everything they are—plus brains. It’s just too bad they’re stupid enough to trust her—I’m not. I wouldn’t trust Madison to pick me up from the airport. Oh, don’t get me wrong—I am going to go through with it. Alyssa’s going to be canceled, and Jamie’s going to take the fall for it.”

Abby giggles.

“The problem is—I’m going to be the only one with an alibi.” Abby pulls out a recording device from her pocket and presses play. “Madison, I’m scared. I don’t want you to do anything stupid. I don’t want you to hurt anyone.”

“Abby, will you shut the fuck up and listen to me? I have an idea.”

“What? What is it, Maddie? What’s your brilliant idea?”

“Jamie is going to cancel Alyssa. Right in this room. And I’m going to help her. But she doesn’t know one thing. There’s a camera in here.”

“In Biryani?”

“Look, you said your interview with that guy from Brown’s this Friday, right? Is there any chance you can get it pushed back to Saturday?”

“But Saturday’s Christmas.”

“I know. Jesus Riseth!”

Abby presses the stop button. “Starbucks isn’t even open on Christmas,” she smiles, and then giggles.

2010

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higherentity · 1 year

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#gondel magazine #cover #winter #1951 #50s #skier

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mckinneygarza82 · 2 days

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Heli Skiing Canada Tyax Heliskiing & Wilderness Lodge

CMH Bugaboos friends bus from Calgary (3.5-4 hours) to the Bugaboos Lodge helipad for a short flight to the newly renovated lodge. The Bugaboos skiing commute is comparatively brief entry time, for Canadian Mountain Holidays, which makes CMH Bugaboos a sensible choice for shorter heli skiing trips. Our most unique heli skiing concept gives you the flexibleness to call the pictures and conquer it all with limitless vertical and infinite terrain. You plan your perfect day together with your guides and set the pace with your individual helicopter. Our Single Group Private is for 4 guests, or double up your squad with our Two Group Private for as a lot as 8. British Columbia presents a few of the greatest heli-skiing on the planet, with more reliable weather, snowfall. The province of British Columbia is one of the best place to heliski in Canada, and Canada is probably the most iconic heliskiing nation on the planet. We have a bundle for anybody who has ever dreamed of visiting an iconic location identified for hero snow. Prefer to have your personal personal chalet and helicopter? From one to everyone, Tyax offers packages to match your function. heli skiing lodge at Tordrillo Mountain Lodge has spent years skiing, guiding, and pioneering new runs of their heli terrain and so they tailor every journey to the needs and talent levels of their friends. Owner Njord holds a singular place in the industry, being each a guide and a helicopter pilot. Njord began his profession ski guiding within the Garmisch-Partenkirchen region of the northern Alps after which worked as a ski patroller. Soon after he turned a helicopter pilot working for the US Army and then continued his career as an experimental check pilot for Lockheed Martin. He’s also been knowledgeable whitewater kayaker, the writer of Kayak Magazine, and a teacher for aspiring boaters and skiers. A place the place the wilderness landscape, luxury lodge expertise and human connection mix in fascinating adventure. It doesn’t matter what quantity of chairlifts you’ve ridden. The thrill of stepping out of a helicopter into the roaring rotor wash can't be understood till you’ve screamed in pleasure as the “bird” lifts off and you’re left standing in awe. We deal with everyone, from the huge number of welcoming terrain we now have, to the small group dimension which encourage new experiences surrounded by experience people. Whether you’re planning a solo mission, a family vacation, or a visit along with your best mates, we've two heliskiing lodges each wealthy in character and appeal. Many folks assume powder skiing is challenging because their only experience in powder is at their local ski resort when it's reduce up with a lot of tracks. During the off season she guides on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River and throughout the mountains of Idaho. In her free time she is at present working toward her non-public pilots license, sneaking in her first solo flight simply before this ski information season pulled her again. Sara loves to ski powder and likes to see her friends love it too. Surrounded by pristine peaks, glaciers, and alpine meadows, Mistaya Lodge is ideal for accessing fabulous terrain, enjoyable within the glow of mountaintop sunsets, and star gazing beneath immense skies.

#ski lodge in canada #heli skiing lodge #heliskiing lodge in Canada #heliskiing lodge #heli ski lodge #heliskiing lodge bc #heli ski lodges in canada #helicopter ski lodge #Bell 2 Lodge

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petnews2day · 21 days

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Avalanche Patrol Dog Sets Bar For Dedicated Resort Skiers Everywhere - Powder Magazine

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/news/pet-news/dog-news/avalanche-patrol-dog-sets-bar-for-dedicated-resort-skiers-everywhere-powder-magazine/?utm_source=TR&utm_medium=Tumblr+%230&utm_campaign=social

Avalanche Patrol Dog Sets Bar For Dedicated Resort Skiers Everywhere - Powder Magazine

Avalanche Patrol Dog Sets Bar For Dedicated Resort Skiers Everywhere Powder Magazine

See full article at https://petnews2day.com/news/pet-news/dog-news/avalanche-patrol-dog-sets-bar-for-dedicated-resort-skiers-everywhere-powder-magazine/?utm_source=TR&utm_medium=Tumblr+%230&utm_campaign=social #DogNews

#Dog News

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pieterstalenhoefboston · 28 days

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Pieter Stalenhoef Has Featured in Interviews About Femsa on Barron's Magazine

Pieter Stalenhoef served Big Brothers Big Sisters of Massachusetts Bay as a volunteer for ten years. By helping young people reach their greatest potential, this group hopes to inspire, engage, and transform communities in Massachusetts. This will lead to healthier families, better schools, and more vibrant communities.

In terms of education, Pieter holds a master's degree in investment management from Boston University and a bachelor's degree in business administration from the University of Vermont.

Pieter is a member of the CFA Society and urges youth to join. For more than 70 years, this non-profit professional association has supported the Boston investing community. It actively encourages ethics and integrity and provides an open venue for the discussion of various points of view on business-related topics.

Pieter emphasizes that CFA Society, Boston members have special access to a wide range of continuing education programs. Renowned business leaders usually speak at these events, sharing their thoughts and experiences about particular career pathways.

Pieter Stalenhoef has been a member of the Boston Security Analysts Society for over 18 years. He has also been featured on Barron's Magazine for his interviews with MBT, a Russian telecom company, and Femsa, a chain of convenience stores in Mexico.

Pieter, who skis a lot, has some advice for those who are just starting out. First-time skiers should refrain from pushing themselves too hard, he says. It may result in more frequent crashes, which would hinder learning and undermine confidence.

#Pieter Stalenhoef

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acrosstheuniverse02 · 2 months

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Arthur Getz, illustratore statunitense (1913-1996)

[*]

https://pixelsmerch.com/featured/arthur-getz-new-yorker-covers-edgar-christ.html

https://image-republic.com/en/the-new-yorker/4406-120-getz-skiers-make-their-way.html

https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cover-story/

https://www.wolfgangs.com/vintage-magazines/the-new-yorker/vintage-magazine/OMS789641.html

https://fineartamerica.com/featured/new-yorker-july-20th-1957-arthur-getz.html

https://condenaststore.com/featured/new-yorker-october-19-1968-arthur-getz.html

#illustratori #copertine #the new yorker #Arthur Getz

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home-decor-design · 2 months

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Holidays on the move - the best ski resorts in the world

While many people dream about the coming of summer, looking sadly at the snow outside the window, skiers and snowboarders are looking forward to an exciting vacation. On the eve of the winter season, the famous American travel magazine Condé Nast Traveler published the results of the Conde Nast Traveler Readers' Choice Awards. More than 800,000 readers participated in it, who for several months shared their opinions on the offers and services of the tourism market. Based on the survey results, a rating of best ski resorts in the world was compiled that are worth visiting for all lovers of active winter recreation.

Les Arcs La Plagne, France

In the heart of the French Alps, the Haute-Tarentaise Valley, is the famous ski resort of Les Arcs. Together with Peisey-Vallandry and la Plagne it forms the single Paradiski ski area. Les Arcs-la-Plagne includes four mountain stations, named according to their altitude and having a common network of lifts - Arc-Pierre-Blanche (1600 m), Arc-1800, Arc-1950 and Arc-2000. The resort also includes the town of Bourg Saint-Maurice, which lies at the foot of the mountain. The ski complex offers guests 425 km of slopes of varying difficulty levels, located at altitudes from 1200 to 3225 m. Both beginners and experienced skiers will enjoy skiing here. Novice athletes usually choose the Arc 1800 area, while professionals highly appreciate the Launched Kilometer track on the slope of the Aiguille Rouge mountain. Each level has at least one descent, illuminated at night. Les Arcs offers many active holiday options for those who do not like skiing. In the Ark-1800 zone there is a snow park with figures, a halfpipe and boarder cross tracks. Several slopes are suitable for freeride. The Launched Kilometer trail offers ziplining. In the Ark-2000 zone, dog sled rides are organized. Chambery airport is 127 km from Les Arcs, Lyon is 145 km, Geneva is 156 km. You can get there by regular buses and taxis or using a transfer. Bourg Saint-Maurice, which is located 15 km from Les Arcs, has direct trains from Paris, Lille, Amsterdam, Brussels and London.

Chamonix-Mont Blanc, France

At the foot of Mont Blanc in Haute-Savoie is the small town of Chamonix - the center of the oldest French ski resort, Chamonix-Mont Blanc. It also includes the villages of Les Houches, Servoz, Vallorcine and Argentiere. The excellent infrastructure of Chamonix-Mont-Blanc allows skiing from the end of November to April. On the slopes of the mountain at an altitude of 2000 m there are 100 trails, of which 13 are suitable for beginners, 66 for experienced skiers, and 21 for professionals. A special place is occupied by the famous White Valley - the longest glacier descent in Europe, ranging from 16 to 24 km. All slopes and pistes are divided into several ski areas - Grands Montets, Flegere-Brevent, Balme-Vallorcine and les Houches-St-Gervais. There is no general network of lifts connecting them all - you need to travel between zones by bus. The easiest way to get to Chamonix is from Geneva, which is 88 km away. There are buses and transfers from the airport. You can also get there by train, but with transfers - the journey will take about 3 hours. The fashion for skiing in Chamonix-Mont Blanc appeared at the end of the 19th century. In 1906, a big season was opened here for the first time. And from January 25 to February 5, 1924, the first Winter Olympic Games took place in Chamonix.

Ischgl, Austria

Ischgl is a fashionable and quite expensive ski resort, one of the best in Austria. It attracts with its magnificent nature, beautiful mountain panorama and perfect snow. Ischgl is located in the Silvretta Valley and is connected to its neighbor, the Swiss city of Samnaun, by a network of cable cars and ski lifts. Therefore, with one ski pass you can ski in two countries at once. The ski area common to both resorts is called Silvretta Arena. This is 239 km of ideal pistes, of which 20 are blue, 40 are red and 25 are black. You can quickly get to any place thanks to 45 modern cable cars. The ski areas located on the Idalp and Alp Trida plateaus are almost at the level of the glacial horizons - at an altitude of 2400-2800 m. There are no extreme slopes here, wide slopes up to 11 km long alternate with chutes and untouched virgin soil. Snowboarders will appreciate one of the world's largest snow parks - PlayStation Vita Snowpark Ischgl. It is divided into three zones: for beginners (Beginner Park), intermediate-level athletes (Public) and professionals (Kingsize). Ischgl is one of the best places in the world for snowboarding. The closest international airport to Ischgl is Innsbruck (99 km). From there you need to take a train or bus to the city of Landeck. There are bus services from the train station to the resort.

Val Thorens, France

The highest resort in Europe, Val Thorens, is the highest point of one of the world's largest ski areas, the Three Valleys. It's great for skiers and snowboarders, but those who don't ski or can't imagine their holiday without nightlife are better off choosing another place. Since the village is located high in the mountains, it will also take time for acclimatization. Val Thorens is connected to the neighboring resorts of the Three Valleys (Courchevel, Meribel, La Tania, Les Menuires) by a network of lifts and a ski pass. The “ski-to-ski-out” concept has been successfully implemented here - the village is located at the intersection of all ski slopes. The season lasts about 175 days - from mid-November to early May. The total length of the slopes is 150 km. Of the 88 pistes in Val Thorens, 11 are green, 39 are blue, 30 are red and 8 are black. The snow cover is of very high quality and lasts throughout the entire season. In addition, there are 5 km of cross-country ski trails and a snowpark with a quarterpipe, halfpipe and pyramids.

Three Valleys (Les Trois Vallées), France

The world's largest ski area, the Three Valleys, unites several French ski resorts located at different altitudes. Among them are the famous Courchevel, Meribel, Val Thorens, Menuires, La Tanya. All of them are connected by a network of lifts. The 3 Vallees ski pass allows you to use all the ski areas of the Three Valleys, but even a whole month is not enough to explore its many slopes. Les Trois Vallées' 600 km of ski slopes, of which 17 percent are green, 39 percent blue, 33 red and 11 black, attract skiers from all over the world. Athletes with any level of training can ride here - from beginners to professionals. There are 120 km of trails for cross-country skiing enthusiasts. 183 lifts transport 260,000 people per hour. Thanks to the variety of terrain and ski slopes, you can ski in any weather. 8 snow parks and 28 entertainment areas will provide excellent leisure time - no one will be bored. Altibus shuttles run from the airports of Geneva, Grenoble, Chambery and Lyon to the resorts of Les Trois Vallées. You can check the schedule and book tickets on the carrier’s website www.altibus.com. Trains run from Paris, Brest, Nantes, Lille, Le Havre, Poitiers and other cities to the Moutiers railway station, built for the 1992 Olympic Games. There is a bus service between the station and the resorts. In order to popularize skiing, Les Trois Vallées often holds promotions. For example, at the beginning of the season (December) and at the end (mid-April) there are reduced prices for ski passes. And on the opening day of the season (in 2021 it is December 4), discounts reach 50%. More details can be found at www.les3vallees.com/en.

Cortina d'Ampezzo, Italy

The resort town of Cortina d'Ampezzo was the capital of the Winter Olympics in 1956 and will again be in 2026. World championships in alpine skiing, cross-country skiing and bobsleigh are constantly held here. But wealthy Europeans come here not only for the sake of skiing, but also to, as they say, “show themselves.” The local public demonstrates all the latest sports fashion, and prefers to spend their leisure time in expensive restaurants and boutiques of famous brands located on the main street of the city. Cortina d'Ampezzo is the only ski resort in Italy that is part of the elite ski organization The Best of the Alps. Even in winter, the sun shines at least 7 hours a day in this region, guaranteeing the best skiing experience. At the disposal of athletes there are 146 km of perfectly prepared slopes, located at altitudes from 1224 to 2828 m. They are served by 36 ski lifts and cable cars. Cortina d'Ampezzo is part of the Dolomiti Superski ski area, which unites 16 resorts. On the website www.dolomitisuperski.com you can order a ski pass valid throughout its territory. The closest to Cortina d'Ampezzo is Venice Airport (162 km), from where you can get there in 3-3.5 hours by ATVO bus or book a transfer. There are no direct trains. With transfers you can travel from Venice to the cities of Dobbiaco and Calalzo di Cadore, from where SAD and Dolomiti Buses run to Cortina.

Cervinia, Italy

The highest ski resort in Italy, Cervinia attracts winter holiday enthusiasts with beautiful scenery, guaranteed snow and a long season. The large ski area is equipped with a well-thought-out system of various types of lifts. Ski passes allow you to ski not only on the southern slopes, which belong to Italy, but also on the northern ones, which are the area of the Swiss resort of Zermatt. The town of Breuil-Cervinia is located at an altitude of 2050 m and is surrounded by the majestic peaks of Monte Rosa (4637 m), Matterhorn (4478 m), Breithorn (4165 m) and Castore (4228 m). The highest point is at an altitude of 3488 m. Here you can take a cable car above the clouds and then ski through them. Cervinia is divided into four ski areas: Plan Maison, Laghi Cime Bianche, Plateau Rosa and Valtournenche Valley Slope. In total, in the Breuil-Cervinia-Valtournenche-Zermatt area there are 69 slopes, the total length of which is about 360 km. In addition, there is a snow park called Indian Park. The airports closest to Cervinia are Milan and Turin. The journey from Milan by bus takes 3.5 hours. You can take the train to Chatillon, after which you can take a bus. From Turin you also need to take a bus with a transfer in Chatillon.

Zermatt, Switzerland

The unique ski resort of Zermatt in Switzerland offers skiing and snowboarding all year round. There is constant snow on the Theodul glacier - the snow park here operates both in winter and summer. In 2020, Zermatt was voted the best resort in the Alps for the third time. Zermatt-Matterhorn and the neighboring Italian resort of Breuil-Cervinia share a ski area with 54 lifts. Of the 360 km of trails, 74 km are blue, 227 km are red and 20 km are black. There are also 36 km of yellow freeride slopes. Children under 9 years old can use the lifts free of charge. Those who don't like skiing should come to Zermatt if only to admire the Matterhorn, the most photographed peak in Europe. But there is plenty of other entertainment here. You can go sledding or go on a snowshoe tour, and relax in the spa in the evening. The city is famous for its cafes and restaurants, two of which, After Seven and Le Capri, have been awarded a Michelin star. In 2018, the world's highest cable car, the Matterhorn Glacier Ride, opened at the resort of Zermatt, connecting the peaks of Trockener Steg (2939 m) and Klein Matterhorn (3883 m). The lift is equipped with 25 gondolas, including four luxury cabins. They are decorated with 280,000 Swarovski crystals laid out in the shape of mountain peaks, and the lighting on the ceiling imitates the starry sky.

Verbier, Switzerland

Verbier is part of the largest Swiss ski area, the 4 Vallees (Four Valleys), which also includes the ski resorts of Nendaz, Veysonnaz, La Tzouma and Thion. The city is located in the Bagnes valley, offering a magnificent panorama of the Alpine massifs and the Mont Blanc mountain. The season in Verbier lasts from late November to April. The resort is preferred mainly by experienced skiers and freeride enthusiasts. The total length of its routes is about 200 km. There are slopes for beginners here, but they are few. For those who lack adrenaline, there are the famous black slopes in the Snowy Riviera - Mont Fort, Mont Gelle and Tortin. There are two types of ski passes in Verbier: for skiing only in the Verbier area or for the entire Four Valleys region, which includes about 400 km of slopes connected by lifts. At an altitude of 2260 m there is a snowpark 1936 Neipark. The closest airport to Verbier is in Geneva - from here there are daily shuttles to the resort. You can take a train from Geneva to Martigny, where you will have to change to a bus or taxi.

Courchevel, France

Courchevel is one of the oldest ski resorts in France, which has long become a symbol of luxury winter holidays. But luxury hotels, branded boutiques and Michelin-starred restaurants are only a worthy setting for its main assets: luxurious landscapes and excellent pistes. Here you can find all the best that ski lovers could wish for. Courchevel is part of the joint ski area Les Trois Vallées. The resort includes six villages located at different altitudes: Saint-Bon, Le Praz, La Tania, Village, Moriond, Courchevel 1850 ( Courchevel 1850). Skiers are offered 150 km of excellent trails of varying difficulty levels, including special Easy Rider areas for beginners and theme parks for children. By purchasing an unlimited ski pass, you can ski on the slopes of the entire Three Valleys zone, which is more than 600 km. In addition, the Courchevel Valley has illuminated slopes for night skiing, 65 cross-country ski routes and a snowpark. Fans of freeride will be able to enjoy untouched virgin soil. Courchevel has its own small airfield and helipad. Air transfer from Lyon and Geneva airports takes just minutes. But this is an option for wealthy guests. It is much cheaper to travel by Altibus buses. You can take the train to Moutiers Salins station, from where buses go to the resort.

Megève, France

Megève was recently awarded membership in the Best of the Alps ski club. Representatives of French bohemia regularly vacation here and one of the branches of the Rothschild dynasty permanently resides here. The ancient Alpine town is famous for its high level of service, Michelin-starred restaurants and luxury boutiques. The resort combines two ski areas: Evasion Mont-Blanc and Les Portes du Mont-Blanc. More than 200 ski slopes in Megève with a total length of about 400 km are created for relaxing and comfortable skiing. The gentle slopes here are ideal for beginners. But there are also interesting places for thrill-seekers, for example, the steep descent of Emile Allais in the Alpet Valley. Those who want to go off the beaten path will be able to get an unforgettable experience of skiing on virgin soil and the glacial descent of Vallée Blanche. In the Evasion Mont-Blanc area there are 7 parks for snowboarders and freestylers, as well as several toboggan areas. The easiest way to get to Megève is from Geneva airport (86 km). Transfer by bus or helicopter is provided. There is a direct train to Sallanches Station, 12 km away. From the station you can get to the city by bus or taxi.

Val d'Isere, France

Val d'Isere and the neighboring resort of Tignes are part of the combined ski area Espace Killy, named after the French Olympic champion Jean Claude Killy. There are more than 300 km of ski slopes, served by 90 ski lifts and funiculars. 20 green, 67 blue, 41 red and 26 black slopes make Val d'Isere attractive to skiers of all skill levels. It includes three ski areas: Le Solaise, Bellevarde and Le Fornet. Their altitude and climatic features of the region provide excellent snow cover, allowing the season to extend until the end of May. You can ski on the slopes of the Grande Motte glacier in Tignes even in summer. Freeride lovers will find 10,000 hectares of virgin snow at an altitude of 1550-3500 m. Val d'Isere also offers other winter recreation options - trekking, cross-country skiing, and dog sledding. Snowboard lovers should pay attention to Valpark - there is a halfpipe, big air, jumps and all kinds of jibbing figures. Read the full article

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