This winter I discovered a new love. I discovered a love that satisfies my need for excitement; a love that offers the rush and sense of danger I thrive off of; a love that requires technique and strategy to work towards; a love that puts me outdoors in the fresh cold winter air…
The boy took me snowboarding.
My first experience was on the lil’ ski school hill—as is most peoples. But with empty slopes and fresh snow falling, I was not content on working my way up—I am much better at just throwing myself into whatever it is I am learning. So after I sort of learned to stop, I got on the lift and rode to the top… of the bunny hill!
Two hours, a couple successful stops and a whole lot of falls later, I wobbled off the mountain with two bruised knees, one beat up tailbone and black and blues covering my legs feeling more exhilarated than I have since my first skydive. I couldn’t stop smiling—I was having the time of my life.
The next morning when we hit the mountain, my outlook started to change. I attempted to ride down the bunny hill but with two bruised knees, one beat up tailbone, black and blues covering my legs and many many little kids flying all around me, I wasn’t feeling too positive.
But I stuck to it: Ride the ski lift, fall on my butt trying to get off the ski lift, strap on board, attempt to ride, fall, attempt to ride, fall, attempt to ride, attempt to stop, collapse within inches of a small child… you get the idea.
By the end of the day I progressed enough that the boy allowed me to accompany him on a green slope. You know in the movies when someone is climbing a hill or mountain and they get to the top and the screen allows you to see over the edge and it looks like they have reached the end of the earth?? Well, there, halfway up Camelback Mountain, in Pennsylvania, I was at the edge of the earth. Of course it took me some time to realize this: I spent ten minutes on the ground waiting for the excruciating pain in my butt to subside—and the tears to dry up—after landing on my arse on an ice patch getting off the ski lift. But then I realized, I was at the edge of the earth.
Of course the edge of the earth didn’t intimidate me for long. By my 5th or 6th run I could ‘leaf’ my way down without falling… almost. All things considered, I was kicking arse!
Since then I attempted a few more ‘green’ slopes—and one blue—on my own snowboard (thanks mom and dad… look at the photo, isn’t it cool?) where I took a few intense falls that landed me on my head, possibly deformed my tailbone and most recently cracked or very badly bruised some ribs. But I also nailed some of those slopes and in two short months taught myself to ride and stop both heelside and toeside. And with any hope, by next year I’ll look cool doing it. 😉
I love that snowboarding requires skill so I always have something to work towards, but it’s also such a rush—riding on your blade fighting to stay upright, stopping on the edge of the trail alongside a drop into the trees or just the sound of the wind as you scrap past other riders… ahhhh!!! Brilliant!
I’ve always been a winter person but this adds snow and mountains into the equation when deciding where to move.
Who fancies hitting the slopes?