Like all of the racers in visually-impaired events, Umstead skis behind a guide - racer and guide ideally separated by no more than three meters, at speeds up to 96 kilometers per hour.

Unusually, Umstead's guide is her husband Rob Umstead, a former U.S. ski racer and now a racing coach in Utah. She loves him telling her what to do.

"Hill! Falling away! Hard snow. Stand on it! Get on outside position!" said Rob Umstead, mimicking his instructions as he barrels down each run before his wife, dressed in high-contrast black and orange to help her see him.

"Working with my husband is amazing," she said as the couple rested at Whistler Creekside Friday after finishing fourth in the women's Super G - visually impaired. "There's something special about racing and living together, and loving one another."

Umstead says visually-impaired ski racers get the medals and all the attention at the Paralympics, but in fact it is a "visually impaired team," not an athlete and their guide.

The Umsteads have been a full-time racing team for two years, and when they're not fund-raising - because money is always a problem for most Paralympic athletes - they now travel the world to races with their two-year-old son Brocton in tow.

"It's fantastic," said Umstead. "I have my best friend, my family, all right there."

At age 13 Umstead, 38, was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa, a genetic eye condition she says already severely limits her vision, and which in time will blind her completely.

By the time she was in her late 20's, she said, "I was in a state of depression and not really thinking that blind people could do anything."

Discovering skiing in 2001 was her salvation. "It gave me a whole new meaning to life. Now I know we can do anything."

The couple met on the top of a ski hill and eventually married atop another ski hill.

The Umstead's goal of a gold medal - their website is vision4gold.com - has been so far elusive at the 2010 Winter Games.

Driving rain blinded Umstead during two races, and she took a fall in another.

And part of the problem has been the wild enthusiasm of Paralympics crowds, because cheering has drowned out their conversation via motorcycle headsets inside their helmets.

"My husband just screamed at me the whole way down the pitch, I could hear him screaming screaming screaming," Umstead told AFP, still yelling to make herself heard over the happy crowd.

"It's so exciting to have fans and to have people here cheering, but it would be great if they could just stop cheering until we reach the finish line."