Nothing quickens the pulse quite like the whoomp-whoomp of a helicopter approaching a high altitude snowfield.
When it’s a six-seater Bell 407 dropping in to scoop up you and your adrenaline-high mates for another ski run down almost 1,000 vertical metres of featherlight powder snow, the sensation is scarily exciting and (the Aussie said it) positively pre-orgasmic.
We huddle on the snow while the pilot parks his bird as close as a kerbside taxi, and pile aboard in the manner prescribed -Â head down to avoid decapitation, backside first, calm and orderly. It’s all we can do to stop giggling.
Airborne again, we can take in the …Â Details