Yesterday, it was my last run of the day. I went down the gondola. And I went down the wrong gondola. It went on another run. I asked the guy how you get to the village, he told me that it was just a short way down or you can go back up and get on another gondola. When he said just a short way down, I thought he meant a 5-10 minute Ski run. But at the time, I was fatigued, tired, and dehydrated. It was a icy run, and I kept falling down. I asked a few people how long it would take to go back to the village, and they all said about 40 minutes.
So, I called my uncle and told him to get the patrol and take me down since I couldn’t make it. Every skier and snowboarder is passing down by the minute, second. While lots of people, asked me to help them while they stood there and talked to me to keep me calm. I didn’t want them to talk to me because sunset was coming super near and they needed get back to safety to their families. Btw, Canadians are the most friendliest, samaritian people I have ever met.
1- 1.5 hours went by, It was dark. I was starting to give up. I kept calling my uncle if the snowmobile person came up. Everyone just said to keep calm which I tried to do. But I was starting to give up hope and started to make a protection for me to try to keep warm during the night. I prayed so many times but my last prayer was ” God, if you want me to die today. That’s alright. I lived 24 years, but please let me freeze to death than rather being eaten by animals at night.”Right after 5 minutes later, the snowmobile person came and brought me down.
But the good part is that I got a beautiful sunset picture of Whistler.
PS: This is a really short version without any details really.