Humor and Learning to Snowboard or Ski

The challenges of learning how to snowboard or ski have long been fodder for comics. You're dressed up in funny clothing, giving up something you're competent in (walking) for motions that are unusual and unknown, and there's always the opportunity, in slipping-on-the-banana-peel style, for aches and pains. Early in the days of snowboarding for example, Dave Barry reported on his adventures. He reported that the day after his time on the board, he went to a coffee-and-Advil diet.

While en route to a short trip away from the frozen tundra to the Sunbelt, I listened to a comedy channel on the airline entertainment system. The comedian repeated one old story about learning how to ski.

He explained that when he was 48, his wife decided that they should take up skiing. He started out with his exasperation of taking up a sport at that age. Here are a few of the lines that I remember from his routine:

• "I told my wife that she should just throw me out the third-story window. I would get the same experience and she would save money the lift ticket."
• "I got hit in the head by the chairlift. It knocked me cold. I called the insurance company about it, and the guy on the other end asks 'So you got hit by a chair?' 'Yes,' I told him; I stood up, looked around, and got hit in the head by the chair.' He told me 'You got hit by a chair? You're a moron. We're not going to cover a pre-existing condition."

So what does this say about our attitudes towards learning how to slide? A number of things: fear of the humiliation that can come from being incompetent at a new task; fear of injury and--here's the one part of these routines that has a kernel of useful truth--not taking yourself too seriously. Especially when you start out, you have to leave your pride behind if you want to find bliss on the slopes.

Drugs for Altitude Sickness

For the best snow and most interesting terrain, snowboarders need to get high--that is, high in elevation. But traveling from sea level or the flatlands to the mountains can give a person altitude sickness.

Last March I took a trip to Crested Butte, which has a base elevation of over 9,300 feet. Before going there, I did some research into altitude sickness. I'd like to say that it helped me, but I don't think so.

One thing I did is get a prescription for Acetazolamide, which WebMD says is used to "prevent and reduce the symptoms of altitude sickness." The National Institutes for Health has more.

The information sheet that came with my prescription had this to say, in part:

"This medicine is a carbonic anhydrase inhibitor used to treat glaucoma or to remove excess body water."

I was a bit startled when I read this. Nothing about altitude sickness. So I kept reading:

"It may also be used to treat other conditions as determined by your doctor."

So there's the altitude sickness, I guess.

The information sheet had the typical warnings about alcohol use and operating heavy machinery. I was struck by another line, though:

"This medicine may cause increased sensitivity to the sun."

Crested Butte, we have a problem. At least I had a problem: I burn rather easily, and here my new helper would make that even more likely. After all, I would be (I hoped!) spending a lot of time in the sun, and at a high elevation. A word with the pharmacist gave me some relief though: use plenty of sunscreen and you'll be fine. Same old, same old.

By the way, did it help? It's hard to say. You're supposed to take it a day or two before you head to higher ground, but once there, I forgot to take it on the first or second day. I didn't get the same intensity of a headache that I had during a trip to Summit County (the elevation in Breckenridge: 9,600 feet), but on the last day I wsa so wiped out that I came inside for a quick nap.

Words I Can't Imagine Saying

There are several words and phrases that I can't imagine saying, when it comes to snow and mountains:

"Ski boots are so much nicer than snowboard boots."

If there's any one thing that makes me hesitate at the thought of getting on skis again, it's getting in ski boots again.

"I like the extra-sturdy weight of skis."

There's another thing that makes me hesitate about getting on skis again: their weight. Carrying a snowboard is so much easier than carrying skis, and poles.

And did I mention that walking in snowboard boots is much easier than walking in ski boots?

“We skied three days hard, so we took a break and didn’t ski yesterday.”

I heard this comment once this winter. I could understand it--the person who said this was about 60 and thus likely had plenty of opportunities for on-mountain activity. But for me, there are too few big-mountain days. If I'm physically able to get out there, I will be there.