the glory of the ride

this is not going to do what it says on the tin. when i talk about the glory of the ride here, i’m talking snowboarding.

pure and simple, sweet snowboarding. surrounded by mountains and the majesty of nature. wind whistling in your ears as you pick up speed, all worldly worries falling away. no cold, no fear, just exhileration as you descend, the rhythmic, graceful movements occurring naturally now. it’s as though you and the mountain are one. it’s beautiful and white, and you feel so at peace. your mind is crystal clear and you feel both the power and mortality of your human body.

but then you’re interrupted, by the sight and sound of several hundred skiers. french instructor at the front, shouting ‘bend zee knees’ and looking like a tool in his red, santa-like suit. and bump, you’re back to reality. your new pants are falling down (no belt), and the bandana you’re wearing is covered in snot. someone says ‘yo dude, i’m totally stoked with my new board’, and you experience a moment of disbelief that you are involved in this bizarre perversion called snowboarding.

these thoughts are snowboarding to me. for so long i have loved it, lived my life around it, at the exclusion of so much else. but like everything, there is an inherent contradiction here. i don’t think i can live this life forever, so i have decided to try something new. or old. i came home.