Snowboarding lesson

  I had a go at Snowboarding 4 or 5 years ago in Zermatt.  We had a 2 hour private lesson, after which we were exhausted and spent the afternoon in a bar drinking vodka feige’s.  We may have had another crack the next morning because I remember trying to use a button lift - our instructor’s last words were ‘just watch what everyone else does and copy them’ - needless to say we were less than successful and I haven’t been snowboarding since.

  Although there is normally a ‘second discipline’ on a GAP course, this was dropped from our course because of the focus on slalom but 3 of us were still interested in doing snowboarding and BASI have arranged for our equipment hire to be paid for as well as the lessons.

  So this morning I was standing on a big slippery plank of wood that seemed to have a mind of it’s own at the top of a run that was clearly far far steeper than it was yesterday when I skied down it without turning or picking up any speed.  This is what it feels like to be a beginner; I’d forgotten, so I’ll try and capture the feeling and recall it when I’m unsympathetic instructor.

  We started with just one foot strapped into a binding and practised stopping on the back edge and then the front edge.  Fortunately I’d bought some padded shorts, because the snow was bum-bruisingly hard.

  Then we tried sliding down on the back edge, followed by a ‘falling leaf’ exercise where we still slid down but started to steer left and right.

  Having managed a couple of runs on the back edge we repeated the same on the front edge which seemed harder because we were balanced on our toes rather than our heels and because we were travelling backwards so we couldn’t see where we were going.  Fortunately I was wearing my helmet because the snow was brain-bruisingly hard.

  To turn right around you have to let the board go flat on the snow and allow it to run straight down the hill.  In fact it requires even more commitment than that because you have to put more of your weight on the end of the board that’s heading directly down the fall line.  Another feeling to try and capture - just how hard it is to throw yourself down a hill when you’re not at all sure you can make that slippery thing under your feet turn, let alone stop, without falling over (on knee-knackering snow).

  So we tried some turns, first from the front side to the back and then from the back to the front.  On my final run I managed to link two turns and felt inordinately pleased with myself.

  After just a couple of hours I was completely drenched and muscles that I didn’t even know existed were protesting of overwork - and I’ve been unusually active for the past 3 months.  Something else to remember when I’m in front of a class.

  Fortunately a bath and a good lunch restored my body and a couple of beers didn’t hurt either.