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Off Piste and Glurwein
The slope was steeper standing on the edge than I had remembered. A tumble would be painful. Definitely would not be good. My younger brother whipped around me and sailed through the thick powder crying out as he zigged between snow-covered outcroppings and half-hidden evergreens. I took a deep breath and tipped my skis, grateful for that last glass of glurwein.
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