The goal for the morning was to master the pipe, but as daylight beamed on, a new goal came to the table: The picnic table jumped to the top of my list.
An assortment of fellow instructor friends and I made circuits through the super-pipe, bringing a number of tempting stunts and hurdles through our path on our way to the chairlift each run. The BIG Golden Peak terrain park was always one of those mythical, impossible, unimaginable challenges--the kind I used to joke about hitting, but never actually thought about seriously. Today, I thought about it seriously.
My friends and I had been hitting the boxes in the parks for several days this season. There was something exciting and challenging about learning freestyle and sliding boxes and rails; 50/50's, frontside, backside--it was all a fun new side of snowboarding for me. Last season was all about powder; trees, bumps, and fresh tracks. So this season would be alternately dedicated to the terrain park.
From above, all of the jumps in Golden Peak seemed a bit out of my league--thirty, fourty and fifty foot jumps just may never be in my repitore. The rails shooting off the top of the quarter pipe seemed a bit unrealistic. But, the picnic tables, ah yes, the two picnic tables. Now there seemed one thing I may be able to do this lifetime.
I began to build confidence about the picnic tables as I watched some of my male peers charge through. Lowe jumped on as if it were nothing tricky. J.D. slid on down being the fifth box he’d ever attempted. And me? Not a chance! haha. Yeah, me and the girls sat with our bums in the snow, deathly scared of the new feature. Our imaginations went wild, dreaming up every possible bad thing that could happen--we could catch an edge and fall off, we could fall off of the table and onto the bench, we could jump too low and miss the table... We even went as far as discussing all the bad things that could happen aloud (not a good idea--the fear just builds and builds).
It wasn’t the actual picnic table I was scared of. The table was just like a big wide box, and I’ve been practicing heaps of boxes this season and have actually grown to feel somewhat comfortable on them. What was worrying about the picnic table was the five foot gap between the lip and the table. What if you didn’t make it?
As we stared down at that picnic table for another moment, we watched a young skier prepare to spin a 360 onto the box, only to finish with his femur smack 90 degrees into the table end. We witnessed our worst nightmare before our very own eyes. We then patted ourselves on the backs for not going there.
Of course, the next run down, my interest in trying the picnic table returned. All my friends could do it, why can't I? So, without pausing long enough to think about it, I decided to go for it.
I was the first one rushing for the table this run. For my approach, I pointed my board flat, with no real thoughts in my head except, JUST DO IT! One quick speed check, and then I lept into the air,
Wow, I’m doing it! I'm doing it! Now, just stare at the end of the table… Whoa!!! SMACK!
Suddenly, I was in slow motion, sliding on my back, feet dangling on the right picnic table bench below.
Just keep sliding, just keep sliding, it will stop soon. The very tip of the nose of my board had smacked bam into the front end of the picnic table, and somehow, I kept flying forward sprawled on the table. I was still alive, just waiting to reach the end of the table and drop into the snow.
I was defeated by the picnic table, and I was pissed. I just did my own worst nightmare.
A quick raise of the arms demonstrated I was okay, and off I went, racing to the bottom of the hill. I had to release the rest of my aggression and anger. I had to make sure I was still alive and that everything still worked. I’d kinked my back earlier in the pipe that day, and this second hit felt like it was just not my day…
I’d unknowingly been chased down the hill by two boys with honest concern. They were sweet to care, and I felt silly for worrying everyone. I’d scared the whole crew from trying the picnic table that run. And poor Claire and I were all pumped to hit the table that time, but after seeing my mistake, Claire was not about to give that one a go. Within a few minutes, everyone made it to the base, and we all decided to grab a quick bite and cool down for a moment.
I ate my sandwich, my heart still racing. I couldn’t remember exactly what happened, all I knew was that it looked like a damn good fall. I reasoned with myself to take it easy the rest of the day, maybe call it a day early. But, I never removed my helmet. I was going out there as soon as we was finished eating. I was going to kill that box.
A second time through, I stared that picnic table down.
How dare you knock me down! How dare you make me scared of you. I knew, like many other features in the park, the more times you pass a feature that you’re scared of, the more scared you become. My new theory, was to just conquer it the first time, every time, and never be beat that fear.
With more speed and a viction to kill, I pointed my board straight a second time and made a conscious effort to ollie onto that picnic table this time. I didn’t care what happened after that, all I cared about was that I didn't do my worst nightmare, again, and smack right into the front of that table.
And this time, I did it, landing solid and letting out a huge scream of happiness! I slid the picnic table! I hit something in the big Golden Peak Park. I did it, I did it, I did it!!! And then, the next time through, I did it again. And, again. I spent the rest of the afternoon hitting the table with the boys, feeling great to defeat my biggest fear a handful of times. It was the best feeling I’ve earned in snowboarding in a long time.
It was a thrilling day. It was an exhausting day. It was, a great riding day. Every emotion pumped through my body today, and, feeling that cycle of fear, anger, excitement and satisfaction on such an excelerated and intense level, was the perfect reminder as to why I enjoy this sport so much.
