My family went skiing when I was like 7. They had 3 different levels of difficulty for slopes. After a while I was bored of level 1 and begged my daddy to take me to the harder one. He reminded me that I was to go slow and stay close to him. Well I didn't listen and just rocketed down the slope at a ridiculous speed and I was freaking out so I completely disregarded the proper way to stop and just threw my self onto the snow. Bad idea, There was only a thin border at the edge of the slope that was now preventing me from plunging to my death. I felt the snow below me shifting and realized I was going to fall so I desparately tore of my gloves so I could get a firmer grip on the ground. At this point my daddy was too far behind and my brother too far ahead to hear me call for help. I wasn't actually thinking about dying right there but I had this dreadful feeling I was going to fall so I closed my eyes and grit my teeth. Thank the Buddha that there was a semi-pro skiier from Australia who noticed me and pulled me to safety. He then consoled me until my daddy got there. Extremely nice guy. We had hot chocolate and donuts together later.