Well, tomorrow I am off for my last snowboarding trip of the season. It's something that always leaves a bit of a lump in my throat; I consider myself an all-seasons type of guy, and I get something out of all of 'em, even the mean, blustery, frigid one known as winter. And there isn't much I love more than spending a crisp winter day out on the slopes.
My approach to snowboarding is what you might call meticulous. The night before, I lay everything out on the bed in the order that it will be pulled on as soon as the alarm clock goes off early the next morning: socks, long underwear, thermal sweater, fleece, toque, and so on. Then it's all stuffed into my all-purpose, fire-red backpack (which I take everywhere) and toted down the narrow front steps and into the waiting car.
For maximum granola-eater flair, I like to take along a Thermos full of coffee and a bag of sandwiches, peanuts, and whatever else can be dredged out from the back of the cupboards. When it's time for a break, this is all tantalizingly spread out on the hood of the car and ravenously devoured. Yep, only five-star for us.
Tomorrow, my coworker David and I are headed out to Mount St. Louis Moonstone, a low-key kind of place north of Barrie that boasts about thirty-five runs. There is a solid terrain park, I'm told, and while I do love the park, it's not something that was even thought of back in the day when I started, so I'm not nearly as experienced on the massive rails and boxes as today's average fourteen year old. But they sure are fun to watch.
So, it looks like it's time to bid adieu to winter 2007, stow the board in the back of the closet and look forward to paddling the lakes and sweating it out on the hiking trails. I'm sure this summer will be hotter than ever.
But for now it's time to strap in, point the nose down the hill, and pull down the goggles. There is powder to be ridden and air to be grabbed.