The Life of Me: Collector's Edition

Weekend Snowboarding Adventure: Reloaded

Bonus! I learned that I was going to get extended in the ‘Springs last week for a couple more days, so guess where I went this past weekend? Breckenridge Ski Resort, baby! Spring skiing is so cool because the sun is warm and the snow is melting and not quite so slushy, which means that turning is easy, control is superb, and when you fall on your ass, it doesn’t feel like your ass is going to fall off due to the pain. Mike dragged me (literally) to Peak 7 at Breck to try some of the blue runs on Saturday. As a snowboarder, I hate catwalks because once I get stuck, I have to unstrap my right boot and skate across the mountain. That sucks. Good thing Mike was on skis to he could pull me along. Anyway, the ordeal was worth it because Peak 7 is sweet! Wide-ass blue runs with rolling hills and no people. It was a really good chance for me to learn how to haul ass down the mountain. No more big, sweeping S-turns—it’s all about small, tight turns down the fall line. There was this one little hill that I attacked nose-on. I didn’t catch air or anything, but once I hit the decline slope, my stomach dropped and I squealed like a frightened girl. But damn it was fun.

Then I got tired and we stayed at the Summit Inn.

The next day, we did more of the same. Blue runs all the way and it was all about the speed. The morning sucked though, because it was really icy and my confidence and abilities seem to drop in those conditions. Once it heated up, though, it was good. Mike took me on this blue/black run that pissed me off b/c I couldn’t turn. Then I got pissed off at him for taking me down it. After I got off that particular slope, I was so pissed that I started hauling ass faster than before, apparently. Why is it that I always seem to perform best when fueled by the Anger? That bugs me, because that means that some of the most exhilarating times in my life will always be tainted by negative overtones. Hmm. So be it. During the end of the day, I was cruising down my newest favorite blue run when something terrible happened: my right contact lens fell out of my eye! That’s bad, because my right is the dominant one and being blinded like that ruins depth perception. Sucky things then start to happen—like I can’t see bumps in the snow, I start to fall over a lot, and small children get plowed. I plopped down finally to reapply it, but you should’ve seen this contact lens, man. It had no curvature left whatsoever and the edges looked all frayed, like my body was digesting it! I had only worn the thing for two nights in a row…geez! So I ditched it near the base of the mountain. Let this be a warning to those who wear their contacts overnight…your eye will start eating it, and then the lens will fall out and you will be blinded.

The End.

posted by anthony fuego @ 8:44 AM