Any activity you excel at, once you’re beyond a certain level, novice let’s say, it can be hard to go back and appreciate the same environment as challenging, even though you know at one point it was all that.
In the new light, it’s hardly worth the time. It almost becomes boring. I’m talking about Twinkle Toes. It’s a ski run on Hudson Bay Mountain. It’s got everything you look for as an 8 yr old learning to ride. Little snake runs on the side and through islands of trees in the middle, jumps everywhere the groomer wasn’t able to churn up some fresh corduroy and a rise at the end that forces you to point it and go faster than you’re comfortable. That or you walk or hop your way over it. 20 years ago, this run looked the same. The only difference might be the height of the trees.
I learned how to ski, and then how to snowboard here. I hit little jumps, bobbed and weaved in and out of the snake runs and ate shit because I was going to fast but didn’t want to walk, or hop, over the inevitably looming rise at the bottom.
I did this run with friends and family for many years. Then, I out grew the jumps, my boards got too long to fully appreciate the snake runs and the rise at the end seemed minor as did the speed required to clear it. Twinkle Toes, I’m sad to say, seemingly turned into a thing of the past.
That is until I returned to the mountain to learn how to sit ski. I don’t think the ever changing jumps, snake runs or the steadfast rise at the bottom have changed at all. The welcoming gradual grade is still there as well. It’s the perfect place to catch a little air and open it up to scare yourself. It feels like, on a run like this, there could be no wrong. Until you catch your downhill edge and fill both your ears with snow, as I did with my brother in law, who was behind me assisting, is now right next to me doing the same. It’s what any good captain, worth his weight in dried mangos, is supposed to do. Go down with the ship.
Big Thanks to Geoff, Lindsay, Dad, Rob, Michele