The poma seems to stutter in its own way, suddenly tugging you up the slope and then slowing slightly, before repeating the process. You wonder if this feels different in a dry nappy — or no nappy at all — before looking over your shoulder. Mama waves, looking quite comfortable with the choice in conveyance. You don’t dare wave back over fear of losing your grip.
What’s stranger is that people are skiing past you as you go up. Sure, there had been a conveyer belt thing in the mostly flat area where you had first puttered back and forth, but here people coming the other way were going fast.