I went snowboarding yesterday, for the first time since our grade six ski trip to the mountains where me and a group of my skiing friends, all took a lesson and promptly returned our rented boards in favour of our owned skis that were resting in the back of the Jeep (just in case).
I’ve tired of my most recent pair of skis, so now is as good a time as any to learn, I suppose – and that fact that I’ve recently invested in both boots (because renting boots skeeves me out) and bindings. I’ve had my eye on the Roxy Envi 152 if anyone is feeling charitable but for now I’m just going to buy a board off a friend who has only really used it once.
I had a good time and I’m looking forward to our next venture out to the dinkiest ski hill know to man.
“So is there more over there?”
“You know, over the hill, on the backside.”
“There is no backside, this is it”
I jokingly suggested that me and another friend (who is also learning this season) should have a rail jam at the end of it to determine who’s better but she politely declined my invitation last night, possibly sensing my natural aptitude on a shred stick and cowering in fear.