Back on Deck

Long before I ever tried to run, I had a sporting passion. It absorbed my thoughts year-round, though I could only ever practice for a few all-too-short months of the year.

My love affair with winter has gone on for decades

I was 16 when I first tried snowboarding. My gym class required that we either go skiing or snowboarding, and I'd already tried skiing once and found it pretty boring.

So I figured I'd try this new-fangled thing
(It was 1995, though this photo wasn't taken until '97)

I rented a board, went to the bunny hill at Horseshoe Resort, and fell. And fell. And fell some more. 

I eventually got the hang of it, but not until after..

I fractured my tailbone. Not to be daunted, I was back out again two weeks later - my sort-of-boyfriend at the time was a skier, and he had his full driver's license, so he drove us up to Horseshoe where I rented a board again. I fell a lot, tore my snowpants, bought a new pair (with my dad's credit card, which I'd used to rent the board), and re-broke my tailbone.

Eventually, through sheer bloody-mindedness, a heap of practice (while spending one winter as a highschool dropout), and after fracturing both of my kneecaps while learning to ride halfpipe on an icy day, I got pretty decent at it. I'd hit the pipes and terrain parks and spend full days flying through the air..

Back then helmets weren't a thing; you knew you'd bailed hard when your toque popped off.
(Assuming you wore one to begin with)

When I moved to Cambridge - right around the corner from Chicopee Ski Club (now Chicopee Ski & Summer Resort) - in 2003, I was delighted to be within 10mins of a hill...even though it wasn't much of one. With having just bought a house, we didn't have much money, so couldn't afford to get out very often...but then my parents bought us season passes in 2004, so we could ride as much as we wanted!

Though I can't seem to locate any of those photos - all stuck on an old computer somewhere - so here's one from Glen Eden in March 2010.
Continuity be damned!

I finally retired my original deck - a 1996 K2 Daniel Franck 154 with K2 bindings from the same year - in 2005, after 10 years of service, picking up a new-old-stock 2004 Lamar Cruiser 149 and kitting it out with a pair of 2005 Burton Cartel bindings. 

I freakin' love this setup!

In 2008, I got the ultimate opportunity - via a trip to see Tanker's family in Alberta - to go ride the Rocky Mountains at Lake Louise.

Definitely a whole new game

DAT VIEW DOE

It was like -40 and I did not care in the LEAST - this was a dream come true for me!

LOVED IT

Two days later we drove back out to Banff to ride at Sunshine Village

Which lived up to its name!

What you see there is only a THIRD of the trail map - there are two other whole peaks!

We continued to snowboard each winter, as money allowed, until 2011.

Hitting a rare-for-Ontario powder day - Feb 11, 2011

Happy as a clam 

I guess I let triathlon (which I raced from 2009 up until 2016) take over my life a little too much, as we didn't get out again for 7 years. It's hard to believe I'd left behind something that was such a treasured part of my life, but things happen sometimes. When we did get out again, it was disastrous - I hadn't lost all my skills, but an unfortunate set of circumstances resulted in me absolutely destroying my right ankle in a crash. 

That was February 11th, 2018. I had replaced the cursed boots with a new pair, but only ever worn them to try them on (and to adjust my bindings to fit them properly). I had sort of thought about getting out again, but we had a poor winter for it one year, then there was the 100 runs in 100 days challenge every winter, and suddenly three years had passed and I still hadn't got out there.

This year, of course the 100 in 100 ended early, having started in mid-November instead of its traditional December commencement. I'd heard that Chicopee had re-opened, with masking and social distancing rules in place. I watched the weather like a hawk, and saw that Saturday, March 13th was supposed to be a mild, sunny afternoon.

It was on. My deck was still waxed for warm snow from that fateful day, and I had just completed a decent length run the weekend before that meant I could probably stand to take it a little easy on the mileage for a bit. I ran down to the market, we picked up groceries and had brunch, then - with unbridled terror coursing through both of us - we hit the damn hill.

The weather was incredible!

My hands literally shook as I did up my bindings

To the bunny hill, with humility. It's an interesting set of thoughts and emotions to unpack when you used to be pretty good at something, but no longer are. I had no desire to push anything; I just wanted to recapture some of the stoke and good times I'd had for so many years.

I didn't bail coming off the lift for the first time, which was a decent start. I ratcheted all straps down securely, took a deep breath, and scooched myself toward the downslope.

Don'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdiedon'tdie

Squatting into my stance, I reached back across the years to find the memory of edges, and toes and heels, and the flex of quads. I carved slowly down the gentle slope, feeling my fear turn to joy as I rode.

Back up the lift, laughing at my own trepidation. We did the bunny hill (Littlefoot) one more time, then moved to the other "green" slope (Tenderfoot). I gained a bit of confidence, and was absolutely flooded with joy. This was HAPPENING, and was just as much fun as I remembered!

You know it's a special occasion when even TANK takes a photo!

It was not entirely without incident - I either lost my focus a bit or just caught an edge a bit, and fell on my bum.

It was honestly probably the best thing that could have happened, because other than that OOF, there was no effect at all. The snow was soft (or maybe just my backside is well padded?), and I popped right up and rode the rest of the way down. No big deal, as I should have known; I've crashed so many times in so many ways on snowboards, and yet the only really life-changing injury was that one time I let get so badly in my head.

But NO MORE DAMMIT

We had only planned to stay a couple of hours - if we got in 8 runs, we'd equal what we'd managed the last time we were out (and half of those were after I wrecked myself; I can be a bit stubborn, dontcherknow). But it was too much fun to leave!

We stayed as the sun dropped behind the hill, casting stretched shadows of the trees across the slope.

I mean it ain't Lake Louise, but it was still pretty

Bidding the sun goodbye

I'd almost forgotten how pleasant the city looks when bathed in golden light

We still stuck to the green slope with its elderly double chair (which also meant we didn't have to share with anyone but the two of us) - I'm not sure I've ever had so much fun on a not-quite-bunny hill before, but it was a hoot!

The irony of an all-access pass and sticking to Tenderfoot all day

We were just happy to take it easy!

As the sun dipped fully below the horizon, it began to get chillier and the hill began to get a little icier; we knew it was time to call last run, so we thanked the lifties as we rode once more to the top.

Chairlift cuddles are always a bonus

All told we got 16 runs in - the hill hadn't been particularly busy when we arrived (around 3:30pm) and the crowd continued to thin out throughout the afternoon, so we were able to easily double our total from 3 years ago. I only had that one little bail on my arse; I stayed upright for the rest of the day, nearly tempted to try an ollie here and there, but keeping myself in check.

Last run pays for all!

It was an incredible day, and I feel like a curse - which lasted fully three years, one month, and two days - has finally been broken. I honestly can't wait to get out again, and certainly hope it won't be half so long til next time!

Hmm...I wonder what tomorrow's conditions will be like?

May you all conquer your fears and find joy in what once was lost - cheers!