Ski jumping

I was locking down straps on ridiculous shoes,
gazing on beautiful mountainous views.
I must have been crazy but I had been dared.
I couldn't back down or admit I was scared.

My untimely death danced forefront in mind.
Any thoughts of escape I had left far behind.
A friend said, "It's easy, just glide with the snow.
C'mon, the Black-Diamond is where we should go."

With trembling hands, I looked over the crest.
Straight down it appeared as I tightened my vest.
Then somebody nudged me just over the top.
Behind me I heard, "Does he know how to stop?"

I was picking up speed at a dangerous pace.
Like an Olympic contestant in a downhill race.
There were so many skiers speckling the slope.
My strategy was now just a prayer and a hope.

I screamed, "Look out. Get out of my way!"
I passed a few friends to their startled dismay.
This must be the end. It was my time to die.
Then I hit an embankment and started to fly.

Falling head over heels in a full double twist,
I landed on my feet and pumped up my fist.
The crowd started cheering my remarkable ride.
I was a little too cocky as I waved in full stride.

With confidence, I thought, that wasn't so tough.
Then some kid whizzed by me to show off his stuff.
The end was in sight, but the path ahead turned.
Changing directions, I hadn't quite learned.

Now tumbling once again, I barely could see,
the fence I knocked down after grazing that tree.
My buddy plowed in saying, "Man, are ya dead?
The best way to stop is not with your head."

I tried to jump up but my skis spun around,
crossing then knocking me back to the ground.
My friends came to help me get up on my feet.
High-fives for a run I could never repeat.

The ones who had cheered and thought I was cool,
now laughed at the perils of this snow skiing fool.
In the end, I had conquered an enemy I faced,
one ride down the slope and my fear was erased.