Hi, this is my application to the University of Washington
The maximum words is 600, but I have about 1150, some cutting down would be greatly appreciated.
It was that time of the year again. President's day weekend at Whistler Mountain, one of the biggest ski resorts in the world and easily my favorite. We would usually ski there for three days, Friday to Sunday. The first day was much like another normal day at Whistler, the skies were clear, with about five centimeters of new snow. But, what happened the next day was going to change my life. It started that Saturday morning. I woke up bright and early at 8 just like any other normal day at Whistler. As I got up, I quickly brushed my teeth and fixed myself some instant noodles. I pulled out my phone to check on the snow report. Twenty-two centimeters of snow had fallen overnight. My jaw dropped. No words could describe the excitement that rushed through my body. It was a skiers dream especially for me; this would be my first time skiing in knee-high snow. I couldn't wait to hit the fresh powder. To add to it, my whole skiing season that year had been terrible and I had never got the chance to use my new powder skis in actual powder. I quickly pulled up my ski pants and grabbed my jacket while my dad helped me carry my skis to meet my skiing buddy, Austin in the hotel lobby. As Austin approached me I told him about the twenty-two centimeters of snow overnight. He was excited but, probably not as excited as me. We headed to the Blackcomb Excalibur Gondola and waited in line for what felt like a year. As we got closer to the gondola our parents took pictures of us, as usual and wished us a safe day. The gondola followed by another two sets of lifts took us to the top of Whistler's Blackcomb Mountain. My adventurous and thrill-seeking self wanted to explore the fresh, untouched powder. But, before heading off-trail we wanted to pace ourselves with some easy runs first. After about 3 runs, Austin and I decided to go off the groomed trails to find ourselves some fresh powder. And there it was, the perfect smooth snow was right in front of our eyes. I had never imagined how it would feel like to ski down a perfect slope of fresh powder. As usual, we planned a way down, and I went first. It felt like I was floating on an endless cloud. This was a totally different experience than what I had imagined. I thought to myself, "Life couldn't get much better than this." I made it down first, while I saw Austin struggling down with his all-mountain skis. I became thankful for my parents for buying me these skis, with the minimal snowfall in Washington, these skis had finally paid off. Austin finally made it down, and we quickly made our way back up the ski lift. After about two more runs of the same thing, we decided to find a different spot. Again, we found another spot of untouched snow, but this time it wasn't as steep. At the end of the run it seemed like there was some kind of hill that we had to go up in order to get back on the trail. As we went down the slope, I thought to myself, "I am going to need a lot of speed in order to get over this hill; otherwise I would have to side-step my way up this hill, which would be lame." The powder skis carried me quickly down the hill; I could feel the wind against my face becoming heavier and heavier as the seconds passed. I made my way closer to the hill, but the hill didn't look like much of a hill anymore; it looked more like a ramp. As I accelerated towards this ramp, I knew I was going to catch some air. All of a sudden, this ramp that I saw shot me vertically up. All I could see was the white sky. I knew that I had jumped up pretty high, and I was going to fall down pretty hard. I hit the ground head first, and then felt a second point of impact on my back. The impact knocked the wind out of me; I couldn't breathe for about eight seconds. As I tried to catch my breath, two snowboarders with British accents came to help. "You okay mate? That was crazy you must have flew about 4 meters high!" "Where did you land?" "I don't know but my chest hurts." "Ah, you probably have broken your ribs with that much impact. Do you need us to call ski patrol?" "I think I can take it from here, thanks though." As the snowboarders left, Austin arrived and I waited on the ground for about three minutes. The pain in the chest started to increase. I tried to get up off the ground but the pain just kept increasing as I lifted a muscle. Austin asked me, "Do you think you can make it down, or should I call the ski patrol?" I replied, "I don't think I would be able to make it down, go ahead and call the ski patrol please." Austin calls the ski patrol and described our location. The pain in my chest just kept increasing. We waited for about 15 minutes for the ski patrol to arrive with a toboggan. Bumps in the snow caused the toboggan to rock backwards and forwards, making my body jump up and down. My body temperature increased and my lips became chapped. After a thirty minute long ride to the middle of the mountain, a van took me and two other injured people to the Whistler Clinic. I was wheel chaired into a room where I met my parents and the doctor. I explained them my story and the doctor helped me take off my two layers of clothing. I looked down at my ribs and noticed that one of my rib bones was pushed out about two centimeters. I then had to make my way to the x-ray room. I could barely walk, so my mom helped me into the room. While making my way to the room, I kept repeating to myself, "Please no broken bone, please no broken bone." A nurse helped me put a lead jacket on and the x-ray machine turned on. After the x-ray, my mom helped me back into the patient room and we waited for about 30 minutes for results. The x-ray showed no sign of bone breakage. My mom was relieved, probably slightly more than I was. This was a moment to remember; the first time my adventurous and daring mindset had punished me. With this experience, it has totally changed my mindset on exploring new things in life. I have learned that life is full of adventures, but safety should always come first.
The maximum words is 600, but I have about 1150, some cutting down would be greatly appreciated.
It was that time of the year again. President's day weekend at Whistler Mountain, one of the biggest ski resorts in the world and easily my favorite. We would usually ski there for three days, Friday to Sunday. The first day was much like another normal day at Whistler, the skies were clear, with about five centimeters of new snow. But, what happened the next day was going to change my life. It started that Saturday morning. I woke up bright and early at 8 just like any other normal day at Whistler. As I got up, I quickly brushed my teeth and fixed myself some instant noodles. I pulled out my phone to check on the snow report. Twenty-two centimeters of snow had fallen overnight. My jaw dropped. No words could describe the excitement that rushed through my body. It was a skiers dream especially for me; this would be my first time skiing in knee-high snow. I couldn't wait to hit the fresh powder. To add to it, my whole skiing season that year had been terrible and I had never got the chance to use my new powder skis in actual powder. I quickly pulled up my ski pants and grabbed my jacket while my dad helped me carry my skis to meet my skiing buddy, Austin in the hotel lobby. As Austin approached me I told him about the twenty-two centimeters of snow overnight. He was excited but, probably not as excited as me. We headed to the Blackcomb Excalibur Gondola and waited in line for what felt like a year. As we got closer to the gondola our parents took pictures of us, as usual and wished us a safe day. The gondola followed by another two sets of lifts took us to the top of Whistler's Blackcomb Mountain. My adventurous and thrill-seeking self wanted to explore the fresh, untouched powder. But, before heading off-trail we wanted to pace ourselves with some easy runs first. After about 3 runs, Austin and I decided to go off the groomed trails to find ourselves some fresh powder. And there it was, the perfect smooth snow was right in front of our eyes. I had never imagined how it would feel like to ski down a perfect slope of fresh powder. As usual, we planned a way down, and I went first. It felt like I was floating on an endless cloud. This was a totally different experience than what I had imagined. I thought to myself, "Life couldn't get much better than this." I made it down first, while I saw Austin struggling down with his all-mountain skis. I became thankful for my parents for buying me these skis, with the minimal snowfall in Washington, these skis had finally paid off. Austin finally made it down, and we quickly made our way back up the ski lift. After about two more runs of the same thing, we decided to find a different spot. Again, we found another spot of untouched snow, but this time it wasn't as steep. At the end of the run it seemed like there was some kind of hill that we had to go up in order to get back on the trail. As we went down the slope, I thought to myself, "I am going to need a lot of speed in order to get over this hill; otherwise I would have to side-step my way up this hill, which would be lame." The powder skis carried me quickly down the hill; I could feel the wind against my face becoming heavier and heavier as the seconds passed. I made my way closer to the hill, but the hill didn't look like much of a hill anymore; it looked more like a ramp. As I accelerated towards this ramp, I knew I was going to catch some air. All of a sudden, this ramp that I saw shot me vertically up. All I could see was the white sky. I knew that I had jumped up pretty high, and I was going to fall down pretty hard. I hit the ground head first, and then felt a second point of impact on my back. The impact knocked the wind out of me; I couldn't breathe for about eight seconds. As I tried to catch my breath, two snowboarders with British accents came to help. "You okay mate? That was crazy you must have flew about 4 meters high!" "Where did you land?" "I don't know but my chest hurts." "Ah, you probably have broken your ribs with that much impact. Do you need us to call ski patrol?" "I think I can take it from here, thanks though." As the snowboarders left, Austin arrived and I waited on the ground for about three minutes. The pain in the chest started to increase. I tried to get up off the ground but the pain just kept increasing as I lifted a muscle. Austin asked me, "Do you think you can make it down, or should I call the ski patrol?" I replied, "I don't think I would be able to make it down, go ahead and call the ski patrol please." Austin calls the ski patrol and described our location. The pain in my chest just kept increasing. We waited for about 15 minutes for the ski patrol to arrive with a toboggan. Bumps in the snow caused the toboggan to rock backwards and forwards, making my body jump up and down. My body temperature increased and my lips became chapped. After a thirty minute long ride to the middle of the mountain, a van took me and two other injured people to the Whistler Clinic. I was wheel chaired into a room where I met my parents and the doctor. I explained them my story and the doctor helped me take off my two layers of clothing. I looked down at my ribs and noticed that one of my rib bones was pushed out about two centimeters. I then had to make my way to the x-ray room. I could barely walk, so my mom helped me into the room. While making my way to the room, I kept repeating to myself, "Please no broken bone, please no broken bone." A nurse helped me put a lead jacket on and the x-ray machine turned on. After the x-ray, my mom helped me back into the patient room and we waited for about 30 minutes for results. The x-ray showed no sign of bone breakage. My mom was relieved, probably slightly more than I was. This was a moment to remember; the first time my adventurous and daring mindset had punished me. With this experience, it has totally changed my mindset on exploring new things in life. I have learned that life is full of adventures, but safety should always come first.