EGRV 23 | Corbet’s Couloir

【The moment he took off his goggles, the live camera captured a young, boyish Asian face, and the entire crowd gasped.】

The apartment Liang Jiansheng had bought was in Coal Harbour, just three streets away from the downtown business district, and was one of the tallest residential buildings in the area. The unit came with a large corner balcony that offered an expansive view, looking out over the Pacific Ocean to the west on one side and the northern mountains on the other.

After his first visit, Cheng Yang had said it was a shame that such a great night view would be gone once Liang Muyie returned to China, and suggested he throw a party. Liang Muyie agreed.

He checked his schedule with Zheng Chengling, and the date they picked happened to be his birthday. It was just a coincidence, though, and he planned to treat it as a normal housewarming party.

Cheng Yang was always talking about pursuing Chi Yu, but it was all thunder and no rain. Aside from booking a lesson with him once a month and catching him at the snowboard shop twice, they had very little interaction.

So Liang Muyie suggested inviting Chi Yu to the party. “Coach Chi owes me a favor,” he said. “You go ask him. He’ll definitely come.”

That weekend, Cheng Yang finally got his wish and had a lesson with Chi Yu. On a blue run, Chi Yu taught him and another student how to do skidded short turns, which Cheng Yang managed to turn into shoulder-rotating, snow-sweeping long turns. After five runs, Cheng Yang’s legs were jelly, and Chi Yu was mentally exhausted from watching.

Cheng Yang was mulling over whether he should make a preemptive strike and invite Chi Yu in person. Meanwhile, Chi Yu was trying to figure out how to ask why Liang Muyie hadn’t come with him, but felt too embarrassed to bring it up.

On the chairlift up the mountain, the two sat in silence, each preoccupied with their own schemes.

In the end, when push came to shove, Cheng Yang won out.

“Oh, by the way, Coach Chi, Muyie moved into a new apartment. He’s throwing a party next weekend. If you’re free, you should come hang out,” he said, turning to extend the invitation. The latter looked as if his thoughts had been read, startling so much that he grabbed the safety bar of the chairlift.

“He moved here?” Chi Yu asked.

“Not really, it’s a place his dad bought for him.”

“…A housewarming?” He habitually wanted to refuse, but Liang Muyie’s resolute voice echoed in his mind—If you consider me a friend, just let me know if you need any help.

Seeing his hesitation, Cheng Yang added, “Actually, it’s his birthday that day.”

Attending a birthday party was probably something friends did. Chi Yu glanced at the date on his watch, then nodded and said succinctly, “Okay.”

---

On the night of the party, the moon was bright, the stars were sparse, and the weather remained excellent. The peak of Cypress Mountain was draped in a layer of snow, like a perfect cap of milk foam.

Liang Muyie gazed out the window, recalling a night one week prior when he was on the other side of this same bay, in that expanse of white. He had followed Chi Yu, carving freely from the summit to the base. Down at the ski lodge, the wind was still strong, and snowflakes had drifted through a crack in the window, dusting Chi Yu’s face. At that moment, he really hadn’t wanted to wake him, because Chi Yu looked so soundly asleep he might have started snoring at any second.

It was strange. He’d been thinking about Chi Yu lately at all different times and places. There was something about that young man’s face that always reminded him of something. Perhaps it was because heading into the mountains recently and reuniting with a bunch of old friends had opened a door in his memory. On the other side of that door, he had been just like the Chi Yu of today, dreaming with such abandon, living with all his might.

The doorbell rang.

Chi Yu arrived fashionably late, still wearing his signature orange snow jacket, which rustled with every step. He came carrying a 12-pack of beer, with a few extra bottles stacked on top.

“Craft beer?” Cheng Yang knew his stuff and bent down to look at the labels. He assumed Chi Yu had bought a case for everyone to enjoy, plus a few more expensive bottles for them to sample together.

But Chi Yu tossed those extra bottles directly to Liang Muyie. “Non-alcoholic.”

“They make non-alcoholic ones?” He searched his memory and finally recalled the night they ate burgers after coming down from Whistler, when he’d mentioned that he didn’t drink. Chi Yu had actually remembered.

“Yeah, an IPA.” Chi Yu stuffed the beers into his hands, then stood to the side with his hands in his pockets, saying no more.

Cheng Yang saw it all. Thinking back now, that was probably the first signal of the night.

There are many kinds of crushes in the world, but they can generally be divided into two camps: those who meticulously play the game of love, and those who don’t. Cheng Yang felt that he and Chi Yu both belonged to the latter.

The difference was, he had played the game so much he’d reached the level of a relationship guru, and frankly, he was tired and wanted to return to simplicity. Chi Yu, on the other hand, seemed to lack the “game of love” circuit in his brain entirely. His affection was as obvious and a little cute as a high schooler’s who would never graduate. Cheng Yang even felt that everyone present could see it. It was just a pity the object of that affection wasn’t him.

He wasn’t too surprised. Chi Yu had already asked him about Liang Muyie twice before. One second they’d be talking about the fries at a cafe, and the next, Chi Yu would suddenly ask when Liang Muyie was coming for another lesson. He didn’t even bother adding an excuse, like “he has my board,” or “he didn’t quite get his open stance last time”—Cheng Yang could have come up with a dozen such reasons for him. But Chi Yu was either too lazy to elaborate or simply didn’t know how to be subtle. He would just bring him up without warning and then abruptly end the topic.

The conversation at the party eventually turned to skiing, and Chi Yu gradually opened up. A few of the guys seized the opportunity to ask for advice on their form. They were all in their twenties, and after a couple of beers, they started demonstrating right on the floor, even getting Chi Yu to give them hands-on pointers. Chi Yu tossed his jacket on the floor, revealing a thin T-shirt underneath, and actually crouched down to coach each of them.

“Your heelside edge isn’t low enough, you need to get lower. Use your left shoulder to reach for your right knee. If you were to fall right now—” Chi Yu actually gave the guy a little push. He used very little force, but the guy had had a lot to drink and wasn’t expecting an interactive lesson. He plopped right down on his butt with a thud.

The room erupted in laughter. Only Chi Yu kept talking. “See? Right now, you should only be landing on your right butt cheek. This means your body still isn’t open enough…” After he finished, he looked at the guy’s sorry state on the floor and couldn’t help but crack a small smile. Like a gentlemanly Premier League player who knows he’s committed a foul, he bent down, extended a hand, and pulled the guy up as if for a handshake.

Liang Muyie watched from the side, holding his second bottle of non-alcoholic IPA. The fake beer had tasted pretty good at first sip, but the more he drank, the more bitter it became. He was also curious how someone as young as Chi Yu could have a taste for things that were so bitter and cold.

“Alright, alright, stop demonstrating, I can’t watch anymore.” Vicky, seeing that the housewarming party had been turned into a martial arts tournament by the ski enthusiasts and that Coach Chi hadn’t left the floor for fifteen minutes, decided to redirect everyone’s attention. She opened her laptop, projected the screen onto the wall, found a video on YouTube, and hit play.

“We are now broadcasting live from Corbet’s Couloir…” a familiar voice rang out.

The video quality wasn’t great; it was clearly from some years ago.

Chi Yu shot his head up from the floor. He finally realized what she was playing. He was a little embarrassed and wanted to go stop it, but the video had clearly captivated everyone in the room, including Liang Muyie.

Kings and Queens of Corbet’s, an annual freestyle cliff-drop invitational at Jackson Hole Mountain Resort in Wyoming. Snowboarders and skiers competed together, with only two divisions: men’s and women’s.

Corbet’s Couloir is a narrow, double-black diamond run with a twenty-foot vertical drop. It’s less of a ski run and more of a cliff. Steep rock walls flank both sides, with a narrow corridor of powder in the middle, at a pitch of up to 45 degrees. The run was named after Barry Corbet, then a ski instructor and mountain guide at Jackson Hole, who, upon discovering it back in 1960, had proclaimed, “Someday, someone will be bold enough to ski it.”*

More than fifty years later, Chi Yu launched himself from the edge of that steep rock face, soaring nearly thirty feet in the air. In the narrow space between the canyon walls, he tucked and executed a double corkscrew, and after completing a full 720-degree spin, the nose of his board just barely grazed the rock wall with a crisp sound.

The commentator was already babbling with excitement. “Oh my god! His board touched the hard rock, changing his momentum… He, Kevin, I think, I have to say, I think the rider did that on purpose. I have never seen an attempt like this. Most of the people who come here are already elite riders, all trying to adapt to the steep terrain, and he—he’s using the terrain! Honestly, I think this is the best Corbet’s run of this year, and maybe for years to come…”

Upon landing, he stuck it firmly in the powder. He then bombed down the rest of the run, carving effortlessly through the half-meter-deep snow, kicking up a rooster tail of powder like a mini avalanche. Back then, there were no high-precision drones to follow the riders, and the camera even lost him for a few seconds in the flying snow.

The moment he took off his goggles, the live camera captured a young, boyish Asian face, and the entire crowd gasped.

That year, an unknown seventeen-year-old Chi Yu had uncharacteristically beaten numerous freeskiing legends to undisputedly claim the title of King of Corbet’s in the men’s division. In the same season, he went on to win the big air championship at the X Games in Colorado.

Most people familiar with his riding and competitive style only knew about his X Games victory, unaware of this earlier tour de force. Not only was he the youngest and first-ever snowboarder to be crowned King of Corbet’s, he had once been the king of aerials in the backcountry scene.

“Holy shit, Coach Chi, you’re a fucking beast…” said the guy Chi Yu had just pushed over, unable to hide his astonishment.

Liang Muyie looked up, searching around, only to find that the star of the video had long since found the situation too awkward and had slipped out onto the balcony with a can of beer for some peace and quiet. He took a step out as well, opening the glass door that led to the balcony.