Learning how to stand up? You may think my "new adventure" is not really that novel. Yes, I know I conquered this life event previously (probably early 1989), but I did not have a large board strapped to my feet. Yes, my friends, I went snowboarding for the first time.
I thought the hardest skill to master was standing up with the board! (I should probably note here that I didn't really master many other skills. Could I get down the hill by the end of the day? Yes. Could I turn voluntarily? No. Could I stop myself? Not really. But honestly, those skills are really mostly for style. My version of stopping and turning? When something is coming up that you need to stop for or turn to miss, hurl yourself onto the ground. Does it look pretty? No... but it is effective.)
Anyway, standing up with a snowboard for the first time is potentially one of the more humiliating things in life. You are laying flat on your back at the top of the bunny hill, flopping like a fish, trying to get in an upright position. I am pretty sure the first time took me about 10 minutes. And then I was too far away from the incline so I had to get back on the ground, awkwardly crawl closer to the hill, and spend another eight minutes flopping back up.
I eventually got off the bunny hill onto a real one. The humiliation really didn't stop at the standing up part. Every now and then I would veer off towards the edge of the slopes... to where there was a slight incline down to what can be best described as a wide ditch that separates the slopes from the forest. If you start to slide down that incline, its a slippery slope (pun intended). Essentially I would have to get down on all fours and try to bunny hop my way back up to a flat part of the course. I can only imagine how absurd I looked to my fellow skiers and snowboarders.
Life lesson: the established rivalry between snowboarders and skiers starts the first time you put one or the other on your feet. I had no personal allegiance to either side until that day, but I instantly understood. The skiers had their scary poles and their "I'm better than you attitude." One guy is standing in the middle of where two paths intersect... just standing there waiting on his girlfriend to come down the hill, and he sees me wildly barreling down the hill uncontrollably - coming straight to where he is planted. He has obvious control over himself, and the effort that it would have taken him to politely move over two feet and let me pass peacefully was apparently too much to ask - even with me frantically yelling at him - and I have to throw myself on the ground to stop only inches away from his skis. He looks at me in disgust and skis away. If it wasn't against his country club etiquette, I'm pretty sure he would have spit on me. Ok, I'm kidding about hating skiers, but I must say I was pretty irritated at this dude.
I honestly had a blast. I know I've used humiliating to describe majority of this experience, but if nothing else I learned persistence and patience, which I think are applicable to a lot in life (ie: trying to work with the IT department to get my laptop and Blackberry set up for work). My only regret is waiting so long in the season to try it. It was February, I think, by the time we hit the slopes. Two weekends in a row when Marie and I tried going there was bad weather - once the slopes were too icy and once it was too warm (a freak 55 degrees). After the weekend went up, it pretty much warmed up and I didn't have the opportunity to go again. Everyone here in LA keeps telling me though "Cali is the perfect place - go snowboarding during the day and to the beach at night," so maybe I'll head out to the mountains here to go humiliate myself again.
I can totally picture you throwing yourself to the ground to stop and it is hilarious. Sounds like how I stop when I ice skate - skate directly into the wall. haha
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