Last weekend, I got the chance to jump on board a mammoth trip with a few of my friends. Before I continue with a memorable highlight of the trip I feel like it's imperative to preface the story with a quick explanation.
So I haven't ridden a snowboard in about two years, mind you the last time I rode I was on the mend from a recently broken ankle. I took two runs, called it a day and spent the rest of the afternoon eating a chili bread bowl with my cousins. It was delicious if you were wondering.
After losing most of our crew on day one, Darek and I explored some back country runs. Sounds like a recipe for the best day ever right? Well had I ridden fresh powder previously I would have known that:
A. you don't ride a size 152 in 3 feet of snow.
B. you're never suppose to lean forward in powder (this will turn out really bad)
C. Getting buried and stuck in snow is one of the most humbling and frustrating feelings ever.
At least for me it was, as I spent about a total of 20 minutes between two runs just trying to dig myself out of waist deep snow. Apparently things were said, fist were thrown, and as the story snowballed (no pun intended) I ended up spending the next two days in the peanut gallery as the hissy-fit throwing kook.
I suppose I'll take that, I must admit it was one of the more stressful times I've had during a recreational activity and I did lose it a bit. However, no matter how bad a first day I had and how undone I came, I think by the end of the trip I fully understood why people like snowboarding so much...spending time with you're buddies mashing down a hill is a rad feeling. I think I might give it another go next weekend.
