A LIGHT SNOW WAS FALLING through the dense pine forest and the sun was descending behind the mountains. In another fifteen minutes there wouldn't be enough light to film. Then we could put a stop to this insanity.

   The train would be rounding the bend any minute now and Mike Spaulding, waiting 300 feet back and 50 feet above the tracks, was going to ski off the cliff and perform a back somersault over the westbound Union Pacific freight train.

   The jump would be timed so that Spaulding would fly, upside down, over the big engine and land on his skis on the other side of the tracks. He'd have to travel 150 feet to make it. It had never been done before, never even practiced.

   I considered it too dangerous but Mike was calling the shots. It was his stunt and he was going to attempt it with or without the cameras rolling.

   I was in the Sierra when I heard about it and thought it would be a good opener for the film I was just finishing, A Bit of Madness.

   While waiting for the train, I began having second thoughts. What was I doing there? In twenty-five years working as a professional ski filmmaker, not one skier had been killed or seriously injured while performing for my cameras.

   Now I was positioned just inside a train tunnel 300 yards above Highway 1-80 on the western slope of the Sierra Nevada, wondering if the filming of this jump would end my career as a skiing cinematographer. If anything should happen to Mike, I would most likely be held responsible and my professional life would be over.

   A life that would never have happened had it not been for an empty can of beef stew. . . .