Next Stop...Olympics

This past weekend a group of Madisonians ventured out into the Korean wilderness to test their hands (and feet) at the great outdoor sports of skiing and snowboarding. Some met fates of disaster, others of glee, but everyone was in agreement that all fates that befell them were replete with good times.

Practically all of Saturday afternoon was spent with my butt, hands, knees, head, or a

Staring at the mountain in front of me. Obviously full of confidence, haha!

combination thereof firmly planted on the side of the mountain. They were never placed there gracefully, instead being subjected to the cruel forces of gravity. In other words, I fell. Not once, not twice, but all afternoon. Forwards, backwards, sideways, and into stationary objects. If one could count the number of ways a person could suddenly crumple into the ground, I feel I could safely claim that I managed to accidentally perform a high percentage of the list.

Documentation of the first few moments of Rachel + Snowboard = Chaos!

As anyone who has learned to snowboard can attest, the trials of the first few precarious hours are in fact not as horrible as they are often depicted. True, fragile bodies had best not attempt to dance the dance of two feet moving in unison while plummeting down a mountain. But, for the brave souls who have wrestled a beastly snowboard and come out standing for more than five consecutive seconds, there is a sudden rush of adrenaline as a reward that propels them on their downward journey.

Teetering and tottering down the hazardous slope also known as the bunny hill for four hours, I slowly honed my snowboarding skill so that by the end of the day, I was able to maneover my board and myself down to the bottom and safety while staying upright. Upright is of course a relative term, because no matter how much my "skills" improved, I was continuously hunched over, arms splayed, ready to wobble as much as was necessary to preserve balance.

As with any practice, certain skills come more easily than do others. Snowboarding is no exception. In my case, I quickly realized that first came standing, then came moving while standing, then came turning while moving and standing. While these can be faceted into any and every odd combination, I discovered that very few led to snowboarding success. At one point during the afternoon, I was learning the technique behind the ever-evasive turn. Sliding down the mountain, I quickly picked up how to turn left, and became ecstatic at my new skill proceededing to keep it up as long as possible. However, as all people know, hills are not infinite, and bunny hills have edges. This became increasingly apparent to me as me and my board slid closer to the leftmost part

Yes, that's right...I coordinated my orange gloves to match the fence. Of course.

of the slope. Yet while I had learned to turn left, I had conveniently forgotten to learn how to turn right or stop. In too few seconds for me to understand, I had accidentally guided my board into the orange DANGER fence that clearly marked the ease of the bunny hill from the next door blue. But even here I was unable to stop. So my board, myself and the fence into which I had crashed took a trip away from comfort and into distress. Who knew that DANGER fences would be so elastic?? Isn't their entire purpose devoted to the preservation of the safety of runaway snowboards with humans attached such as myself? Either way, I think the appearance of a not-yet-beginner snowboarder and DANGER fence into the nextdoor run made enough of a show to ensure that a collision with a person on a blue would not take place. Thank God for that!

Next Stop...Olympics

Seoul, South Korea