It was bound to happen. Being married to an adventurous guy I knew that he would want to try it someday. Snowboarding that is. After some thought I realized that there could be some major advantages to all of this. For once, he would be slow. No more “chop chop” and the husband-clock chiming “SGO! SGO! SGO!” (that’s short for “let’s go”) when we are out on the slopes. I decided to see how it would all play out.
He tried snowboarding for the first time one day on a mid-week trip organized by some work buddies. The new guy had a board and everyone admired it from a safe distance. After lunch Husband asked if he could try it for a few runs. Of course the bunny slope was too demeaning to him; he went straight for a green. The mountain that day was particularly icy and not very forgiving to someone who is down more than up. After a few tries and one whiplash-producing wham (thank God he was smart enough to borrow the helmet too) he returned the board to its owner. For weeks he nursed his aching neck. There’s nothing like a case of whiplash to bring you to your senses. “Good I thought… the fascination is over.”
I was wrong.
“I’m gonna check out the swap meet this weekend” he quietly mumbled. “Hmmm” I thought. He must be going to check out new skis. When he returned with “the wood” I knew there was no turning back for him. Now “the wood” was no ordinary wood. He got the used snowboard from a big kid who was upgrading. I think the kid was simply afraid of the graphics on the board. How could you look down at a distorted man’s face in mid-primal scream and not be scared? The kids were scared of it. I was scared of it. Husband was indifferent and anxious to hit the trails. I was already planning on stocking up on Advil.
That was two years ago. Husband now splits his time on the mountain between the two sports, preferring to snowboard in the morning when his muscles aren’t tired and aching and going back to his first love of gobbling up black diamonds on the sticks. Logistics for a family ski day has now drastically changed. Husband now has a specific spot on the chairlift, and giving our little one a hop up on the lift seat is now impossible for him since he has to be on the outermost chair spot. Unloading is also confusing since he now needs time to buckle his bindings. “Riders” must unbuckle their boots from the bindings to keep one foot free for maneuverability in the lift line. But our entertainment factor has increased. The kids no longer look for his flaming red jacket to find him. They look for the lump on the snow now. And runs are now more leisurely since we are no longer trying to catch up with him. He’s behind us now, waaay behind us. But with each season he inches closer to our group. Secretly I think he likes hanging back. He’s got time to give the boarder-to-boarder head nod that skiers never seem to exchange. It’s like some kind of secret sign. What are they really thinking? It must be something like “Ow, my butt took it hard on that last one.” Or maybe “Why is this approach so stinkin’ flat?”
I guess after all this, the answer is Yes. This Ski Chick does find something in common with her Boarder Dude. We both still enjoy the mountain and everything it has to offer- the snow, the views, and the fun. We give the same war cry on our first runs of the day and enjoy some well deserved après ski refreshment (has the term après board been invented yet?). And hey, I admire him for trying something new. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?
