Steve Dilbeck: My Signature Olympic Moment

and then vanishes from the face of the Earth. It is freezing cold, but I wait. Thirty minutes later, no bus. One hour later, no bus. There is absolutely no one around. No people, no cab, no van. By 2:30 my toes are going numb and there is still no bus. I know none runs from then until 4 a.m. I have no cell phone, and the only pay phone in this village requires a phone card.
In a moment of daring, desperation or frozen-educed stupidity, I decide to walk it. I should say, decide to hike it. Claviere is a shade over seven kilometers from Cesana, or about 4 ½ miles. Did I mention it’s also up? The elevation in those four-plus miles climbs 2,000 feet to Claviere’s 6,456-foot elevation.
I was unaware of all those facts when I began my climb in the dark of night, up the winding roads carrying a 20-pound bag. Maybe one-third of the way, I started questioning my sanity. My feet were now warm, but my chin was frozen and felt the size of Bill Cowher’s. I hoped every bend would be the last, only for another uphill road to await. Also these old tunnels are not lighted. Had to walk/hike through four, one was so completely black I couldn’t see my nose. I refused to stop and rest for fear I’d never get going again. Luckily, there was little wind.
I finally reached Claviere about 4:15 a.m., almost two hours from my start. Just as I reached the hotel, the van pulled up, if only to mock me. Happy to report the new snow boots were a great purchase. Not one blister, although my shin splints are now raging and unpromising for the 16 days ahead of mountain coverage. On the bright side, I’m alive. Let the Games begin.