Snowboarding? Day 1- Ouch!

It’s Day one of my honeymoon and I awake with my new wife at our luxurious hotel, The Vail Cascade Resort and Spa. We had made a good choice, the place is beautiful. The resort is very large and runs along side of the mountain, surrounded by woods and the stream. This place is first class all the way.

I had tuned my snowboard last night after dinner. I was excited to finally be hitting the slopes and trying out the sport with modern equipment. How hard can it be? I can skateboard on ramps as well as hills. I can boogie board and water ski. Hell, I was one of the first snowboarders and dared to challenge dead mans’ hill in my Brunswick Snurfer. I can do this.

Outside of our door you can hear other guest’s snow gear swishing by as they walk. The plastic waterproof material makes a somewhat annoying Swish sound with every step they take. It seems the hotel is up and ready to hit the slopes. We are not far behind them. I tie up my cool new boots, tuck my long board under my arm, and we are out the door.

Nanci needs to score her rental skis before we leave. Nanci has had some experience skiing, and has chosen to stick with the sure thing rather than brave a new sport as I have done. The hotel has a great pro shop that can accommodate her rentals at a reasonable price. We had done our research the day before. As Nanci finishes her fitting, I sit outside on a bench made from a large tree sawn in half. I’m watching how everyone else manages to get on the ski lift with the snowboard attached to their feet. I hate being the rookie.

The lift that will take us to the top of Vail Mountain is located right along side the pro shop and hotel. We purchase our lift tickets and make our way to the back of the line to snap our boots in our bindings. Nanci is ready to go.

It’s time to jump into the line and get on the lift. I had seen from watching the other snowboarders that you snap your front foot in the binding and leave your back foot to push you along, much like riding a skateboard. It seems easy enough to do, however the width of the snowboard and the fact that my foot is turned 90 degrees to the side makes me look like a retard participating in some new Special Olympic Sport.

Nanci and I manage to get on the chair lift with minimal stress. I was glad to have made it, although I almost pulled my leg off as the snowboard turned sideways on liftoff. We were now riding up the snow covered mountains. Nanci was very nervous about falling off, and looking down I can say that I blame her. We pull a lap bar down over our heads. This thing is worthless, but it seems to help her anxiety.

This chairlift will take us almost all the way to the top of the mountain. Vail is scattered with many lifts that will give you access to the various runs. Since our resort is located on the far side of the mountain, this lift takes us to the far right where we can ski down the main run and towards the middle for more options. I have checked my map and we will take the easy runs at first while we both get used to our chosen equipment. I’m not worried. This is going to be easy.

It’s time to dismount the lift. Luckily I had read how to do this online before our trip. Both Nanci and I slide down the small hill below the chair and come to a stop before the drop off down the main slope. Dozens of people whiz by us while a take a few minutes to lock my back foot into the binding. I’m ready to go.

Let’s go snowboarding. I place my hands behind me and give a mighty shove in order to rise to a standing position. Nanci has already started her way down the slope. Immediately upon my rising the snowboard began to accelerate down the hill. My balance was fine. Everything seemed o.k. I started to gain some speed. I’m going to need to do some turns to control this speed. I start to gently lean on to the edge in the hopes of performing a graceful turn. The board swivels but does not turn. I rapidly gain more speed as I head into the very large clearing and across the main run.

I desperately need to slow down and gain control of this snowboard or else I’m doomed to become a meat rocket plowing down the slope too an inevitable climax upside a white Aspen tree. I lean once again, this time with a little more effort, and nothing happens. Now my board is sideways sliding down the hill. The traction of this device now seems like that of a saucer that simply follows the contours of the hill on some predetermined route designated by gravity. This is bad.

I’ve traveled 50 yards and have gained an incredible amount of speed. I’m facing up the hill, my snowboard is sideways, and I’m traveling down the slope way too fast. Suddenly the back edge grabs the snow and I’m airborne flying backwards about 4 feet in the air. With a mighty thud I land flat on my back. My head smacks the packed snow causing a series of white and black flashes as I bounce down the hill finally coming to a rest. Ouch! What the fuck?

I believe that we all have a little human energy meter inside our bodies. You can see this invisible indicator whenever you watch a boxing match and the loosing boxer takes a wicked upper cut straight to the chin. You can see this indicator drop substantially. This first impact decreased my indicator by 25%, not a good start.

Over the next 2 hours I would become a victim of what I now call “NewSnowboarditis”; the horrible condition that is the direct result of taking the chair lift to the top of the mountain without first learning how to ride a snowboard. I was caught in a horrible vortex of repetitive pain. It was my destiny to travel a maximum of 35 yards, gaining incredible speed while swiveling out of control and finally impacting with the snow in some nightmarish reenactment of a sports bloopers gag reel. Each collision would lower my personal energy meter further and further until I was far into the negative and operating on pure tenacity. Damn it! Where’s the bottom of this fucking mountain?

Nanci had found her ski legs early and was having no problem carving nicely controlled paths down the slope. She would ski in front of me, swishing to a nice stop about 70 yards or so down the hill, a safe distance clear of any possible impact zone, yet in perfect position to the view the carnage that was sure to follow.

Here comes the carnage, and once again I would desperately try to gain control of this evil contraption that was causing parts of my body to hurt that I had never even felt before. Please God, just let me make it down this fucking hill. He didn’t care; he loved every glorious moment of this testament to human ignorance. Later that night God and his arc angles would hit the Tevo of life and replay the day long highlights of my contorted demise down Vail Mountain.

About half way down the mountain I had come to a rest, or shall I say, I cart wheeled to a stop, ironically perched at the beginning of a specially designed advanced run for snowboarders. This run had rails and jumps and looked like it was designed by a video game programmer. As usual, I sat their on my sore ass for several minutes as I tried to regain the oxygen and will power needed to arise and once again plummet unto another flesh pile 30 yards or so down the hill. I was breathing very hard. My ass hurt. I sat there.

Suddenly a snowboarder came sliding to a perfect stop right next to me. He sat down for a minute. He was confident and well learned in the ways of the snowboarding Jedi. With a quick motion he lifted his goggles to the top of his wool hat, looked over at me and said “Great board man! What a great day for snowboarding!” He had obviously not seen my advanced human cart wheel spiral that landed me in this ironic position. Like him, he assumed I was perched in preparation of taking on this advanced run. In fact, I was panicking, trying to figure out how to guide the damn snowboard far away from this run and continue down the catwalk that I was originally on, and make my way towards Nanci and another Kodak crash. I needed some help and this guy was surely an expert.

I swallowed my pride, or perhaps it was a small piece of my liver than had rattled loose. “Hey man, how the fuck do you turn these things?”

He looked at me and smiled. He understood. All snowboarders must pass through this baptism of pain and humiliation that I was experiencing. As a testament to the many people that I would later meet on the slopes, he was cool and friendly and quick to offer assistance.

“Turn your board sideways, and try just riding down on the side edge, practice rocking your weight until you find your balance. It’s all in your toes. Once you find your balance on the edge, you’ll get it.” And with a smile he was off down the run.

I took his advice and managed to slide the rest of the way down Vail Mountain on the back edge of my snowboard. Sure, I crashed many more times, however by the time I made it to the bottom I could actually turn. Well, I could turn sometimes, mostly just to the right.

Nanci and I called it a day and we retreated to a small outside restaurant to lick my wounds and enjoy a nice refreshing beverage. She looked at me with the pitiful eyes of a woman who had seen the horror first hand. She was concerned. “are you o.k.?”

I was o.k., and damn glad to be at the bottom of the hill. I had gained an amazing amount of respect for the snowboarders who make it look so easy. Every muscle, every bone, even my guts hurt. My head had impacted so many times with the snow that the term “headache” didn’t even begin to describe the swollen feeling of my brain. I felt like a soldier back from the war, older, hardened with a million mile stare, more respectful of life.

We retired back to our room and rested before dinner. Nanci’s co-workers had purchased her a day at the famous spa located in our resort. Tomorrow she was going to spend the afternoon soaking in weird oils and getting pampered by the staff. I have another plan.

I WILL SNOWBOARD. I WILL NOT FAIL. I WILL TRY AGAIN. I fell asleep.