Today is the day before taxes are due. It’s the fourteenth of April and a year ago today, I was sliding around like a maniac on the slopes of Copper Mountain. You see, last year was the first year that I dared strap into a snowboard and go sailing down a mountain. I had a taken a lesson or two (okay, exactly two) and after learning next to nothing from that, I decided to rely on the teachings of my pretty-much-pro boyfriend and youtube videos. This, paired with a ton of unsolicited advice from the interwebz, and I thought I was on my way. I rode for about 1/2 a season and capped my first rodeo with learning to how to jump without breaking my butt. I say half a season because I officially started in February (2019) and rode through May. All the cool kids had been riding since October. I wanted to wait for “real winter.” Lesson learned.
As the fall of 2020 approached, I spent my summer complaining about the unrelenting heat, posting pictures of my set up, buying boards I had no business buying and watching as much footage as I could of other riders. I was determined to shred the gnar like one of the guys come opening day. It came early for us here in Colorado with a mid-October opening at A-basin who just barely beat out Keystone. As expected, I wanted to jump on I-70 and take my first ride down the “white ribbon of death” that I had heard so much about. Fortunately for me and everyone else, logic set in and I deiced to wait. I mean, a rock could totally ruin the base of one of my five new boards that had magically arrived since my last day or worse yet, I could have taken out that family of six as I tried to pass them on this legendary ribbon of snow that laid in wait up in the mountains.
Toward the end of October, it became apparent that I was going to spontaneously combust if I didn’t get up on that hill. After talking non-stop about it to my previously mentioned pretty-much-pro boyfriend, he agreed to a snow day on October 30th. There was sufficient snowfall, I had the day off work and that was all we needed to pack up our gear, stuff some breakfast burritos into our faces and head west for those mountains that had been teasing us all summer. My first day back was…incredible. It was ten degrees below zero on the mountain, I couldn’t remember how to turn and I fell getting off the lift more often than one should be allowed. At the end of day one, I felt good but frustrated and as I pulled my snot-laden neck gaiter from my face, I vowed to return in a few days and put in some work.
I did return and worked on things and fell down and adjusted and fell down less and eventually stopped falling getting off the lift. I took my boyfriend’s advice, I went against his advice at times (by the way, he’s always right) and then one day, I was able to keep up with him and his good buddy on a run that I will never forget. It was full of lovely rolling hills and it was fast! I never lost sight of them and they barely had to wait on me. I thought, “THIS is it!” It was the best day ever and from there, I went on to make several more mistakes, got up and learned and eventually learned to just feel what snowboarding is. Everything was amazing and then along came March 2020.
I had moved in with my boyfriend and the both of us were trying to figure out when we could get up in the snow again. Moving took up several weekends for me and by the time the dust settled it was March. I think it was Winter Park that first announced they were suspending operations; I watched my boyfriend’s face flatten out as he read the news. He already knew the other mountains would follow suit. I stupidly held out hope they wouldn’t but that was soon met with the reality of the situation. One by one, I read about the closures and my heart just sank. One moment of bright light came along when I read that Snowy Range up in Wyomig was still open; naturally we immediately started making plans for a trip up north. They were expecting an impressive storm and everything seemed to be in position for us to get a few more amazing days in….even if it included the horrendous Wyoming wind and ice coast conditions that can affect certain parts of that mountain. As we excitedly planned out this last minutes trip, I began going on about how I could show my boyfriend the back side of this particular mountain, a part he missed on our first trip there. It was all so exciting, and then the email came. Snowy had decided to close too.
That was it. The season was over. I was heartbroken. I put all my boards downstairs into storage as looking at them was too depressing. I stopped checking the websites for the mountains in hopes they would reopen after a few weeks. I was devastated and saddened and looking back, horribly selfish. I lamented to my boyfriend about it often, and he would calmly tell me, it was for the best. I knew he was right but in the back of my mind, I was already panicking about how much I was going to lose. I had figured out my stance and binding angles. I was riding blues and a few blacks without getting in trouble. I was progressing and now after half a season, it had to stop.
And now it’s April and the weather is heating up. I no longer have all the resorts in my phone to quickly look at their snow stakes each morning. I don’t randomly check to see if by some miracle that A-basin has reopened (high five for high altitude!). All I do now is remember that winter will come again and we will all ride again. There are those that are brave and go into the backcountry to continue their season. I sit with zero experience and enough brains to know that I would be making a bad choice giving that a go without ever trying it before. I just know that I have more to learn and more to do. I know we all do. For a while, I was angry that I only logged 17 days but I have been sharply reminded that others only got a handful or maybe for some, none at all. I made some fantastic memories up there this season and learned A LOT. I faced fears, rode like a fool (sometimes) and got hungry for more. To say, “but this isn’t fair, I just started” sounds exactly like me and now that I’ve had time to think it over, I realize how selfish that sounds. I’m thinking positively for next season and the health and safe operations of our mountains. I’m thinking of all the resort employees and everyone who loves to be on the snow (even the skiers) and I hope we can all get back to what we love just as soon as possible.
To close this, I think it’s important for all of us to realize what’s happened over the last few months. We live in a different world right now and we’re all making adjustments. Some folks are angry, some are indifferent. Others panic and more still go with the flow. This writing isn’t meant to downplay how COVID-19 has affected all of us, it’s merely to shed some light on myself and how the loss of something I love has served to remind me of the bigger picture. The closures and distancing are only helping us get back to normal safely, though it feels odd and wrong. The day will come again when we can all jump in the car at five in the morning, ram a breakfast burrito into our face and proceed to talk about riding switch, going off rollers and that one time I fell and broke my face in the park.
Stay patient, stay positive and most of all stay the course.
Copious Quirks 