This Year's Death Sport

Well I could hardly leave you hanging without finishing the snowboarding story….. so here it is. Last year, Fauntleroy talked me into ski-skating and this year, a few weekends back, all the three Mitchells, their partners and kids managed to get together at Sir Sam’s for a day of snowboarding.

IronGirl had tried to weasel out of it claiming it was going to be too cold. But after being called a wuss by the 6 Foot Horse (the other one), she relented and agreed to go. All reports did call for a frigid miserable day but it turned out to be sunny and there was no wind. So while cold, it was quite pleasant if appropriately attired.

All but Red Wine and I were proficient at either skiing or snowboarding and were soon scattered around on the various hills and slopes. Wisely, the two of us opted for a lesson before attempting the main runs. I can’t recall the technical terms, but we were soon gliding back and forth across the snow, digging our heels in or tipping our toes down to control speed.

The biggest challenge was doing an S-turn. I found coming back around quite easy, but it was that first turn, when your lead foot is facing down the hill and the speed picks up that was nerve racking. But if you could not panic for that split second the front of your board would come about and all slowed down to a reasonable pace.

Our lesson was two hours and then the troops rallied around us as we descended the hills solo. Aside from a snow job from the 6 Foot Horse, I was doing just fine. Any falls were of my own choosing and relatively soft. I found stationary items, trees for example, quite easy to get around.

My challenge was a moving target. As I was heading down the hill, I spotted a group of five teenage girls gathered on a flat spot. That is another thing about snowboarding; it is like a middle-school dance. All the boys stick together and so do the girls. Even in the chalet at lunch, the flock together. Some things never change. Anyway…..

Among their group was a novice like myself, and her friends were trying to help her with some tips on how to move. At least that is what I surmise. The whole lot of them were meandering down the hill like molasses running through a cold pipe. In my mind I pictured myself taking out one or two of them as I went shooting through, so I thought it best to fall.

This one was neither gentle, graceful nor by choice really. Falling backwards I was sure my wrists had snapped, yoga career over I feared, and my butt felt like it had been ripped a new one. IronMan was soon at my side trying to sooth me when it started.

When someone has a heart attack, is really scared or in an accident etc. apparently they lose control of their bowels and presto, Bob’s your uncle. Luckily, I am very regular and my morning routine had cleaned my out. Otherwise I fear there would have been more than my pride smeared across that mountain. I tooted once, and then couldn’t stop.

I wanted a hug and soothing words but at the same time did not want my audience subjected to such un-ladylike behaviour. Luckily, long-johns and a pair of pants encased in snow-pants seem to have muffled the majority of the offenders and I focused on complaining about my wrists.

“Ohhhhh you should have worn wrist guards” IronMan said.

I wanted to scream “now you tell me!” but was too busy laughing at all the tooting I was doing and apparently could not stop. Not even by speaking louder (that’s for you KitKat).

The only other time I had gone boarding was in Whistler and when I feel there the snow was so deep it was like falling on a pillow. If I had know such pain was possible, I would have indeed had wrist guards, and a butt guard too!

No harm no foul really. My wrists are still a bit sore now and then but I actually really want to go boarding (as the kids call it) again. Only next time, it will be where the have softer snow!