I started skiing back in middle school, about five years before snowboarding was making its way onto most slopes. By the time boarders were finally finding a welcoming seat on the chairlift, I was already heavily invested in skiing in both gear and guts.
I wasn’t a great skier, but I was good enough. Fearless youth, a little experience and the need to impress girls can get you down a mountain really fast – dry and pain free most of the time.
But as much as I’ve enjoyed skiing, back surgery and a series of knee injuries over the past 15 years combined to scare me off the mountain. I no longer had the fearlessness or the need to impress girls, and even my gear (Stormtrooper boots bound to 6-foot-long razors) had lost its edge.
I wasn’t scared of the mountain, the snow and ice, or even the speed. I was scared of my knees going two different directions while going down the mountain on the snow and ice at a high rate of speed.
As my son, Eli, has become interested in trying out the slopes over the past year, I’ve been trying to make my way back up the mountain. The more I considered it, the more convinced I became that my next trip down a ski slope would actually be on a snowboard.