Parcly: [dreams of falling into a crevasse, thus waking up] Coo… [flips mane, head still shaking a little] Wait a minute, how come it’s only five in the morning?
Spindle: Because I want to catch sunrise on the mountainside, to feel the rays shining through my ethereal self…
Parcly: Then what about me, if you drain all my feelings?
Spindle: Don’t worry, I won’t be doing that here - the exhilaration of being in my native environment will suffice. Suit up, we’re going places!
Parcly: None of the three cities I visited was anywhere near the destination: the Yongpyong ski resort in Pyeongchang, host city for the 2018 Winter Olympics. It lies in the freezing north-eastern part of the country, where South Korean snowfall typically begins for a given winter.
Spindle: From our place to the slopes was a two-hour canter, with me as a snowplow. To relieve her stresses of waking up early and clopping hard afterwards, my ancestry lent me a hoof. This is a skill unique to the windigos, for it enables them to isolate somepony before possessing them to spread the cancer that will see them initiated into the herd of blistering winters. (Well, until Parcly and the medicine she was named for came along…)
First I had to imitate the voice of a pony she loved with passion - this was Luna. I took a deep breath, stared into her pupils and mimicked the words: “Look into the serene eyes of mine and imagine you are in them…” Then I paced her in circles until I could feel her brain silent - in other words, hypnotised.
Now her vision and movement were controlled by colour; any large purple object would direct her focus and hooves towards it. I donned a purple jacket and set off across the Korean peninsula, now a white landscape interrupted by exposed rock. At the ski area I hovered above the snow, crashing her face back into reality. Parcly was impressed.
Double Diamond: I had arrived to assist the alicorn with equipment and manoeuvres.
Skis do not come in one piece, as they seem to be. There is a purpose-built shoe that latches into the ski boards at its front and back; this gives a means of walking on hard surfaces. Another peculiarity is the extreme tightness of the shoes, which keeps the ankle joint safe and cosy. Parcly was at first nervous about fitting this - almost as tight as the bottle she sleeps in - but she found some sweet skis eventually.
Then I taught her how to mount (press shoe on board), dismount (pull the rear latch), move, stop and turn. I know, the fundamentals are easy, but controlling an implement that locks your sides and hooves on a slippery ramp can be very frustrating.
Parcly: Especially if you’re used to flying, like me. The first time I went downhill my skis flipped and I got tangled over myself; I had to remount myself and hobble down the remaining slope. I am known for a slight physical clumsiness, despite my flying and galloping speeds sitting well above average.
Still, practice makes perfect and I managed to stabilise my descent, even over bumps and ruts; I did my fourth and fifth runs without falling. With this increased confidence I could go faster, and by the last run I was even making small turns at speed.
Diamond: For somepony who’s never skied before, let alone waded in a whole heap of snow, Parcly had a deft touch. It’s a pity her frame isn’t built for the sport: her legs are long and being part pegasus means she doesn’t have the weight to stay connected with the slope.
Spindle: Parcly had that paradoxical smile on a wobbling body after changing out, which was funny to watch. Nevertheless it would now be night when we returned to Seoul, so without delay I put her into the same trance as she had when going to Yongpyong and flew ahead. Some spring onions for dinner and we could have a truly deep sleep on the first day of the last month.