Finally another drop in my bucket! With only one day left before Mountain High closed for the season Devin and I decided to cross off my desire to go snowboarding and to the beach within the same day.
This all started years ago while on a business trip in Connecticut. As I was sitting at the bar I struck up a conversation with a couple from Boston; eventually our conversation lead to a debate about where the better place to live was, Boston or California; and I eventually won by concluding, “Tell me where else in the world you can drive less than two hours to go snowboarding and to the beach within the same day, and not your cold, no wave beach- but your Southern California girls in bikinis, guys riding the waves beach” as they dumbfoundedly looked towards one another for the answer, I smirked knowing once again I won. (ps- I never lose)
Like usual we were down to the wire, only one mountain was still open* for the spring season, and I say “open” meaning two lifts and 4 runs total. There was actually more dirt than snow on the mountain which was why it would be closing for the season the next day.
It had been about three years since the last time I laced up my snow boots and let me tell you this was not an easy feat. I don’t know if my boots had just been unbroken into- if that can even happen, or if my feet grew, but I could barely get my foot in. If that was my Cinderella moment, prince charming would have given up; I was totally the evil stepsister trying to squeeze my oversized foot into somewhere it didn’t belong.
It’s said that you never forget how to ride a bike, and while that may be true, you can forget how to ride a snowboard, or at least I did. At one time early in my “career” I had a season’s pass to the mountain and would go snowboarding on a weekly basis. I wasn’t the best, but I did once ride a box. This experience for me was by far one of my most embarrassing- well the time I ran into the ski instructor’s chair was worse, but at least that was my first time ever- this time I couldn’t ride toe side, so I spent the whole way down the mountain riding heel side zigzagging back and forth. I used to hate people who snowboarded like this, their unpredictable pattern down the mountain made it nearly impossible to pass, and when you tried to they would spastically fall right in front of you causing you to nearly fall also. Well today I was one of them, complete with the falling on my ass over and over again- and did I mention I was wearing jeans? As we were pulling out all of our gear the night before I noticed that my pants weren’t with everything else, with all the stores being closed I said F it I’ll be okay, I’m not going to fall… boy was I wrong!
After two runs I was exhausted and done snowboarding. I sat on a bench at the bottom of the mountain drinking a Coors Light sulking over my wet jeans, ache feet, and sore thighs. I couldn’t wait to get to the beach, but had to wait for Devin to go on a few more runs.
Once Devin finally had his fill of snowboarding we threw our boards into the backseat of his car and headed towards the beach. Less than two hours later we laying in the sand listening to the seagulls crowing and children screaming as the cold waves crashed onto them (because the beach on a warm spring afternoon never has the peaceful waves crashing into the sand sound).
I have become somewhat of a wimp in my later years; the girl who used to bodyboard and hang in the water with all the guys was replaced by the girl who would rather lay out and bronze her body, and today was no exception. I really did want to try to surf with Devin to make my story more complete- snowboarding and surfing in the same day- but I couldn’t make it past dipping my feet into the cold water.
As Devin swam out with his surfboard I sat in my chair reading the latest Nicholas Sparks novel still amused with the fact that only in Southern California could a person go to the snow and to the beach in the same day- and I was now someone who had done it.
That’s my story…
Peace & Love