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The helicopter had room for eight passengers which meant, with all the gear we had to stow, that we had four clients with us. Four members of the same family. A man with his son and two nephews. At least that’s what the invoice said. The father and son looked more like siblings. The same shortcropped black hair, eyes and ears. Even their bearing was alike. They didn’t seem more then 10 years apart in age. The two nephews were twins. They looked so much alike that they wore clothing in clashing different colors to be sure we could distinguish them. And they were right. The orange and green, so vibrant it was almost luminescent, did made us notice them. But so did their curly blond hair and athletic figure. Their protective clothing showed promising curves and bulges that made it clear the twins were everything a proverbial blond god should be.

While Peter was dividing up the backpacks and extra gear, I gave our little safetyspeech. Walk where we walk when walking in snow or ice, ski where we ski, use sunscreen, always pee out of the wind and don’t forget to put on underwear to avoid freezing your ass off. Those last two always earned us either a glare or a laugh. It was our way of measuring up the group.

This time, the reactions varied from an amused smile (the son) to a hollering laugh (the father) that made us fear for an avalanche.

After explaining that the rest of the day would be spent with a rather short walk and then skiing down the other side of the mountain before reaching the first cabin.