Long, winding queues stretched out in front of the four ticket windows in the center of the hall, mostly filled with young tourists dressed in flashy snowboarding gear.
In the middle of the line, a man in a bright silver jacket was vigorously rubbing a heating patch on his abdomen.
Many people around me were only wearing ordinary cotton underwear with ski suits. In such strong winds, such clothing that lacks moisture-wicking properties is extremely dangerous.
They stomped their feet in alternating steps, their boots clattering against the wooden floor, their complaints filling the entire hall.
Emily exhaled a large puff of white breath, her gaze sweeping over the long line of at least seventy or eighty people ahead, and her delicate eyebrows immediately furrowed.
Judging from the current situation, I wonder how long the wait will be.
"At this rate, it will take at least an hour before it's our turn."
Why are there so many people today?
The number of people queuing today was indeed a bit excessive.
It's important to know that Pyramid Mountain is an officially managed ski run near the Kodiak Town.
But locals rarely come here to ski.
The main reason is that with winter approaching, there are so many off-the-beaten-path ski resorts here, and they're free.
Most people simply drive to some hillsides and ski on their own.
Of course, that's very dangerous.
And that's why this ski resort isn't usually that crowded.
Today is a special case.
It's probably also related to the recent weather.
The frequent heavy snowfalls make many people hesitant to go skiing in the wild.
Unstable weather makes those off-road ski runs even more dangerous.
Su Wei did not walk to the back of the line.
He carried the heavy satchel and walked straight to a separate window on the far right of the hall.
Above the window hangs a green metal sign with white English lettering: Military Personnel, Licensed Physicians, Registered Hunters... Special Priority Passage.
There was no one in front of the passage.
Behind the glass window, a middle-aged ticket seller in a gray uniform was leaning back in a swivel chair.
He held a cup of hot black tea, staring at the poker game on the computer screen.
This window is reserved for special professions, but real wilderness hunters rarely come to commercial ski runs, so it is usually deserted.
Su Wei walked to the glass window and reached his right hand into the side pocket of his tactical pants.
He pinched out a hard plastic card with slightly worn edges between two fingers.
He smoothly pushed the license, which bore the Hunters' Guild's anti-counterfeiting mark, into the curved feed chute.
The ticket seller turned around, saw the card, and immediately straightened up and got off the chair.
His gaze swept over the logo in the upper left corner of the card and the unique numerical code below it.
In Alaska, being a professional hunter is not just a job, but also represents absolute force.
The ticket seller put down his teacup, closed the poker interface, and placed his hands on the keyboard.
Good morning, Mr. Hunter.
He quickly entered the numerical code into the internal system, and two seconds later, the system emitted a notification sound indicating that the verification had been successful.
Two skip-the-line all-terrain passes are needed.
"No problem, I'll handle it right away."
The ticket seller opened a drawer and pulled out two plain black cards with metal chips attached.
This is the highest level of pass, allowing entry into the un-groomed, high-grade powder area.
"Two All-Terrain Cards, with a 40% discount according to the guild agreement, totaling forty-eight US dollars."
Su Wei pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and pushed it over.
"Thanks."
The ticket seller pushed the hunter's license, along with the black card and change, back down the chute with both hands.
The whole process took less than a minute.
Several tourists in the long queue next to him stopped complaining and turned their surprised gazes to the young man dressed in unassuming black.
Someone tried to peek over to see the logo on the card.
Su Wei pinched the edge of the card, flicked his wrist, and stuffed the license back into his pocket.
Emily followed beside Su Wei.
She looked at the tourists shivering from the cold and nudged Su Wei's arm with her elbow.
"On Kodiak Island, a hunter's license is more useful than a bank's black card."
Su Wei handed her one of the black passes.
"The wilderness only recognizes survival skills, not the numbers in a bank account."
He turned around and switched the ski pack to his left hand.
The two pushed open the back door of the hall leading to the ski slope.
An extremely cold wind rushed towards me.
Su Wei stopped and looked up at the mechanical weather vane on the spire of the ticket hall.
The metal fan blades are spinning rapidly under the force of the wind.
The lack of lubrication causes the bearing to rub against itself at high frequency, producing a sharp, piercing scraping sound.
The wind has changed direction.
It's no longer just a simple polar northerly wind; low-pressure turbulence mixed with moisture is gathering at high altitudes.
Following the wind vane, Su Wei's gaze passed over the cable car line and locked onto the highest rocky ridge of Pyramid Mountain.
Several thick, dark gray cumulus clouds quietly emerged, clinging to the outline of the mountain ridge.
The edges of the clouds were torn apart into fragmented, fluffy shapes by high-altitude airflow.
Chapter 212 Su Wei, your action just now was more photogenic than anything else.
The metal turnstiles at the ticket gate popped open.
The electronic buzzer sounded briefly, and the green light flashed briefly before going out.
Su Wei stepped aside to let Emily pass first, carrying a 30-pound snowplow bag on his left shoulder and a carbon fiber tripod in his right hand, and followed behind.
Behind the turnstiles, the world has taken on a different face.
The screams, laughter after falls, and the instructors' hoarse shouts to lower their center of gravity from the commercial ski slopes were all blocked by a three-meter-high windbreak wall on the other side.
The entrance to the advanced powder snow area is a gentle slope.
Black warning flags were planted on both sides, their fluttering in the wind.
The snow beneath my feet has changed.
The hardened ice that had been repeatedly crushed on the commercial road has disappeared, replaced by a layer of unpressed powder snow up to forty centimeters thick.
The sole of the boot went down to mid-calf.
When it was pulled out, it brought up a cloud of fine white powder, which hung in the air for two seconds before falling back down.
Su Wei stopped in his tracks.
Sunlight cut through the cracks in the clouds.
The angle was extremely low, almost touching the ridgeline with a horizontal shot.
The light fell on the untouched powder snow, and every snow crystal refracted the light.
Dense points of light covered the entire slope. In the distance, there was a cool blue-purple hue, while up close, there were only tiny, pinpoint-sized flashes of light.
Hundreds of millions of hexagonal ice crystals shattered a beam of sunlight into a hillside covered in tiny diamonds.
Emily stopped in her tracks.
She took off her goggles and pushed them up to her forehead, staring at the snow with her naked eyes, her blue eyes filled with the reflections of those shimmering lights.
"This light..."
She paused for a second, her academic instincts making her mouth move faster than her brain.
"Low-angle incidence combined with the high refractive index of dry powder snow..."
She waved her hand halfway through her sentence and laughed out loud.
"Never mind. It's just beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."
Su Wei did not respond.
He had already crouched down, opened the outermost waterproof compartment of the sack, and taken out the Sony FX3.