It all started with a ski trip. I was up at Heavenly in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with a group of friends, getting set for a day of shredding the slopes and carving out some powder. It was snowing that day, seemingly harmless little flurries. Then we boarded the chairlift up the mountain — the flurries turned thick, coating the strands of my hair until it turned icy.
“No way other way to get down!” we said cheerily. I patted my phone, safely zipped (or so I thought....