She would not remember theutter nothingness of the unconscious. How could she? She was notlevitating over her body making disinterested decisions all the whilebedazzled by a radiance beckoning, summoning from an alluring andinfinite tunnel. She was, quite simply, not there—gripped by the vastvoid of an insensate brain.

Only later would she recapture the ephemeral portents of someincalculable, mystifying cosmic beyond: premonitions paling beforea vast, immutable silence. A silence like death; like the utter stillnessof a shroud. Or tomb.

A silence melding with a fear so devastating, so absolute, that itwould haunt the remainder of her life. A grasping, insidious fear it was,coupling with consciousness as it stole back ... meandering at firstthrough veils of ethereal mists then hammering through explodingpinwheels of light. It was ominous, this awakening, for oxygenwas scant ... going rare. Bitter recognition seared her brain evenas the swelling bloat of carbon dioxide began re-stealing awareness.Suffocating, spinning with terror ... she gasped, I'm suffocating.

Breathe in and out. Calmly now, she cautioned reeling reason:a breath in, a breath out. Yet it seemed a mere heartbeat before herbreathing segued to a shallow panting. Then snuffling inhalationsthrough life sustaining passageways now clogged and blocked. Sourvapors rose from her stomach. Her eyes flew wide open and—wereblind. Warm supple orbs roughen by relentless alabaster! Snow. Socold, so pure. Everywhere, snow. Weighty and resolute. A ghastlycrypt of snow!

Avalanche! Clamored her oxygen-starved gray cells. Anavalanche! What else? A goddamn silent, slithering, lethal sea ofwhite death. And death? Her death. A scream erupted, echoing inher mind, repulsing the blank, black vortex of dread. Real or psychic,the scream ignited a surge of adrenalin-driven action. She flailed.She writhed and thrashed against her frigid sepulcher. Only thendid she truly grasp the dimensions of her confinement: The absolutemass squeezing her down, down, as a fossil compressed by snow.And one leg trapped, folded into utter immobility as a limb of anunfortunate beast is pinioned in a lock-jawed trap. Her shoulders, herchest bowed under a terrifying weight yet she commenced a franticdigging, a dog paddling ... clawing, wriggling and wrenching. OUT!OUT GOD! Please! ... out. But which ... way ... was ... out?Which way? Please, God, which goddamn way was out?

`Spit! Hurry and spit, 'screamed her flagging brain (inspired by aattentive deity?) as she spiraled down, down into hysteria. `Spit', herdiminishing reason pleaded, `spit falls with gravity. Spit falls down!'A tongue as sluggish and wooly as a caterpillar probed a mouthas dry as an old maiden aunt.

`Oh god! Lemons!' The panicking cortex howled. `Think lemons.Think them now, fool ... before you cease to think at all!'

Lemons? Beautiful citrus, rich golden acidic spheres? Suchfabulous images coupled with her autonomic system and squirtingbursts of saliva filled her mouth and ... she spit. A feeble effort, yetsaliva trickled over her lips, slid down her cheeks, slowly drippeddown. So ... it was up then? Wasn't it? Wasn't it? Up? Up tosalvation? Rudimentary thought had gone as arduous and evanescentas nuclear physics and yet, in a single pure flash of cognition, clear asStolichnaya she knew ... Up.

Silent were her screams, yet a frenzied grunting beat in herauditory canals. In a near terminal burst of life, single operational legkicking like fury, her survival bent body twisted and bench pressedsnow; that terrible killing snow packed tight as a coffin. Now shewas hyperventilating, even on ever diminishing oxygen and clouds ofgray mist summoned even as her desperate limbs continued striking,struggling, heaving. When suddenly—all at once—there came acreaking and cracking, a shuddering—and at last (thank you god!) aminor fault opened giving way to a rush of oxygen. Blessed oxygen!Face thrust through the jagged fissure, she sucked in great gratefulgasps, whoops of air ... exquisite, splendid air.

And snow fell all around. Dense thickets of snow, fat white flakesfrom invisible heavens: dancing, falling. God and luck! Kismet andserendipity! She forced her arms through the crust, pawed the snowfrom her most fortunate head and breathed ... beauteous, invisible,life-sustaining gas.

The beatitudes of this life-salvaging marvel was soon followedby an ugly coughing disgorge: a heaving vomiting detritus of thenoon's eats splashing hot across the snow, where it pooled, stinkingand steaming; the mess soon vanishing, sinking away like an aliencorrosive. A honking paroxysm chased the foul regurgitation:dreadful gluts of snow and snot mixed and, at length, a great gushingburst of bright blood spewed from nasal tissues too long dehydratedby the arid High Sierra days and nights. Dear God, she thoughtpanting with exhaustion, red ice freezing on her cheeks, dear god,breath is a wonderful thing! And life. Fragile life—and all life'sbounty; amazing friends, great times, joie de vive! Yet, in a instant itcame to this: death at the door, death at one's back, lurking unseen,scheming and plotting; the drunk driver careening across the median;the Sonny Bono head snap against wood, the treacherous revolt ofbodily tissues, terrorists exploding random destruction ...

With the passage of time the beat of her heart slowed, a measureof strength crept back—and with it the ardent desire to escape thiswinter wonderland transmogrified from beauty to terror in a momentshe could no longer recall. She dug out. Her torso excavated fromthe tenacious clutch of snow she paused for an inventory. Well. Hergoggles were missing; hat absent; poles gone AWOL. Now (way toolate) she keenly regretted skiing (upon orthopedic advice) withoutattaching her ski poles to her person via the handy wrist straps. Ahso. It seemed that at least one ski was still attached to her person.And that buried at an excruciating angle. Cautiously she tunneled,after a time extracted the bent leg and with difficulty, for her fingerswere far from steady, released the ski. Carefully she manipulated thesquashed limb now shrieking with the painful lances of returningsensation, eventually deducing that broken bones were unlikely. So,crabbed the nagging voice that had surfaced...