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The wind-whipped ice pellets slammed against their faces and made their cheeks feel like frozen sandpaper. On another part of the mountain, the Alpine skiers had been sent back to their hotels, told the conditions were too dangerous for racing that day.
ASPEN, Colo. (AP) The wind-whipped ice pellets slammed against their faces and made their cheeks feel like frozen sandpaper. On another part of the mountain, the Alpine skiers had been sent back to their hotels, told the conditions were too dangerous for racing that day.
"First Descent" is boring, repetitive and maddening about a subject you'd think would be fairly interesting: snowboarding down a mountain. And not just any mountain. This isn't about snowboarders at Aspen or Park City. It's about experts who are helicoptered to the tops of virgin peaks in Alaska, and snowboard down what look like almost vertical slopes.
I know nothing about snowboarding. A question occurs to me. If it occurs to me, it will occur to other viewers. The question is this: How do the snowboarders know where they are going? In shot after shot, they hurtle off snow ledges into thin air, and then land dozens or hundreds or feet lower on another slope. Here's my question: As they approach the edge of the ledge, how can they know for sure what awaits them over the edge? Wouldn't they eventually be surprised, not to say dismayed, to learn that they were about to drop half a mile? Or land on rocks? Or fall into a chasm? Shouldn't the mountains of