I was born and raised in Maine so one might think I'd be hardcore into the winter sports but that's definitely not the case. I'm pretty averse to the cold in general. It's been over ten years since I've been skiing, and it never even crossed my mind to attempt to snowboard. However, if you're going to date an avid x-games skilled snowboarder it's basically a requirement. So, this October I bought a $10 board at a yard sale, painted it white, threw some crazy dragon designs on it, and was ready to go. Our first time out we hit up the bunny slope at Pat's Peak in NH. I was nervous about falling off the T-bar, but apparently since I last visited a Mountain they've invented a new contraption for me to hurt myself on. They call in the magic carpet. It's actually pretty cool (Imagine a human conveyer belt). I didn't fall off all day.
My girlfriend did a great job of teaching me the basics She's clearly a pro at this. I fell a few times as little kids flew by me at break-neck speeds. Eventually I managed to get down the bunny slope without falling. I was ready for the black diamonds!
Our second time out (at Cannon in NH) my instructor-girlfriend decided to test out my skills. First I learned to ride the lift while strapped into a snowboard. Getting on wasn't so bad (getting off is a different story). Rather than brush up on my bunny level abilities, we went straight to the blue trails (intermediate). Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure this first trail was a triple black diamond accidentally marked as a blue.
The first 100 yards seemed straight down to me. Rather than glide down like my teacher, I "decided" to tumble down helplessly. This became a pattern as the day went on. The Mountain kept knocking me down, and I kept getting up for more abuse. By the end of the day I was sore, frustrated, cold, and humbled.
Third times a charm though, right?
