Mrs Scotsman and I made our annual pilgrimage to Blackcomb to eke out final lift turns of the season.
We skied Blacklcomb Glacier and at base you "have to" cross a small stream.
I saw partial snow-bridge with gap that would require a small jump across.
Threw my and her skis over.
I crossed with no problem.
Mrs Scotsman hesitated at crucial jump... dallied when she should have dillied. Cantilevered snow-bridge collapsed sending Mrs Scotsman into deepest part of stream for full immersion.
Rushed to her rescue and grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her onto dry land.
Was reprimanded strongly for laughing.
Stripped her down and gave her a dry puffy from my pack.
Showing that good mid-western spunk that first attracted me to her...she keep skiing for the next few hours.
Next day mountain gods rewarded her baptism with beautiful corn on same run and an intact snow-bridge was discovered downstream of accident site and I was reprimanded again.
