It was 25 degrees at the base. Not much cooler up top.
Three of my friends took to 7th Heaven on Blackcomb Mountain to do some alpine boarding in paradise. I played it cautious, met up with Sean, an instructor at the mountain, and headed up some green slopes for a few hours of lessons.
"I've never been on a mountain this big," I said. Half excited; half terrified.
"We're gonna rip it up!" he said with confidence.
We high-fived.
At the top, skiers and snowboarders were in t-shirts, tank tops, even a few bikinis. It was like out of a B movie from the 80s, minus the fluorescents. I was the only one with a helmet and mitts (safety first!).
The view made me stop in my tracks, lose sense of time, and just fall in love.
Blue sky. White capped mountains. "Wow".
Sean chimed in: "Let's go. Show me what you know."
Uh... what?
I gulped. Then I "showed" him: strapped myself in and started down the hill with a couple of slow and silly pendulum like moves.
"That's it," I said, shrugging. "Those are my moves."
"We'll have you carving again in no time," he said.
Half way down the first run I was switching from toe to heel, going faster, feeling the breeze. Stripped off my jacket and my gloves. It was steamy! And the view.... WHOA!! ... the view was like standing on the top of the world, on a cloud, in heaven and looking out at something so majestic it nearly hurt.
It was the blue gem of a sky with a zig-zag white-cap horizon.
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| Heaven on earth |
I faceplanted.
"What happened?" Sean said laughing, boarding over to give me a hand.
"I got caught up in the view. I forgot I was boarding," I said pulling chunks of snow out of my shirt.
"Yah," he said, pausing. "That does happen here - a lot!"
The hours wore on. More falling. More boarding. More carving. Faster and faster. Less wobbly each time. I was getting my groove back. I felt alive.
"How does it feel?" he yelled over as he carved in tandem down one of the steeper parts of the hill.
"SOOOO awesome!" I smiled back. I couldn't wait to meet up with my friends on the top. I felt strong and confident.
By the second run, my falls were fewer, my stance was stronger, and I had all kinds of confidence.
The sun was shining. The snow was glistening. I was smiling.
Every now and again I realized I was wearing a t-shirt + boarding pants only. And I laughed.
Best. Snowboarding. Experience. Ever!
I was carving through paradise.
Then, another skier fell in front of me (W-a-y in front of me – so far in front it shouldn't have been an issue at all). I got scared, caught an edge, and spun. My legs crossed over each other and my board stuck in the snow while the momentum forced my upper body to keep turning. I wrung myself out like a rag.
My knee felt like it would snap in half.
I finally came to a stop.
"Whoa! You really twisted up there," said Sean. "You okay."
I looked up.
Swallowed tears.
Lied: "Totally."
"Let's get back at it," he said.
"Can you show me that last move again? I think I put my weight in the wrong area." I said feigning interest in a recap.
I was buying myself time to get a grip, pull myself together, forget the pain, and stand up again.
There was no way that I was getting hurt on this mountain, on this day, right before summer.
He showed me.
Then motioned for me to get rolling.
I stood up and my legs shook.
I'm just scared, I thought. It's just because I fell.
I headed down toward Sean.
And I spent the next 45 minutes falling every two turns.
"I've lost my mojo!" I said, lying face up in the snow. slush down my pants, up my shirt, in my face. Hands red with cold.
"You're not really using your left knee" he said. "Put more weight on it."
"Right," I nodded. "Of course."
So I did. It shook. But I made it precariously down the hill.
In 4 hours, I went from terrified to back in the saddle and blissed out to terrified again.
Oh, life. What a crazy rollercoaster you are.
At the bottom again, a text from my friends: a picture of a Corona Margarita on the patio in Whistler Village. Caption: "You've earned this."
We all reconvened on the patio where we stripped down to our long underwear (it was SOOO hot), drank beers and margarita, and reminisced in the beauty of the day.
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| Celebrating snowboarding bliss! |
Adjectives thrown around amid beer sips and fry eating included:
"epic"
"dreamy"
"Stunning"
"f-in awesome!"
We headed back to the chalet for more hot tubbing and BBQing.
I limped a little.
"You ok?" asked a friend.
"Think so" I said.
We pressed forth.
By midnight, we were all zonked. 8 hours in the sun. Too much food. Too much beer. Too much bliss. (Actually, you really can't have enough bliss.)
Sunday morning I woke up with a headache inside my knee.
I know, sounds crazy. But it felt like my knee was having a migraine.
I limped around.
"What'd you do?"
"You should get that checked out," another friend said.
"yah yah," I sloughed her off and put some peas on it.
With the cars packed and massive hugs had, we all drove home.
Man, that was incredible, I thought.
Then a pang in my knee like spine-tingling jolt. Zing.
I can't believe I boarded in a t-shirt, I recollected.
Another pang – zing – right inside my knee.
I drove straight to the walkin clinic.
"Take off your pants" said the doctor with no personality and all sorts of sternness.
I stripped down. (As a side bar, I think it's weird that a doctor has the authority to tell you to take off your pants and you just do with no questions asked. If a guy asked me to do that in the street, I'd slap him!)
"Well, this could be bad" she said.
I gulped.
"How bad?"
"Not sure," she said
She hooked me up with crutches and anti-infammatories.
Sent me for x-rays and an MRI.
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| Look ma: I did it again! |
MRI results come in on Tuesday.
I'm personally hoping for "minor sprain. you'll be up and running trails again in two weeks."
But the precariousness of my knee and the bubble of pain inside has me slightly worried that I might be in for a bit of an uphill battle.
Still, I boarded in a t-shirt on the top of Blackcomb Mountain!! Highligh of my life!!
So not all is lost.
I'll keep you posted.
