Too Little Time to Hate

Call me crazy, but I think that the opportunities offered by snowboarding, skiing, and other wintertime activities are too enjoyable to worry about how other people enjoy them.

Even as we wind down snowboarding's third decade, the alleged feud between skiers and snowboarders still gets press. (Sometimes the attitudes are in fact not friendly; witness some online discussions when Taos Ski area announced that it would open its terrain up to snowboarders.)

But here's something I was not aware of: an anti-snowboarder sentiment within snowboarding. Perhaps naive, I was surprised how vulgar and anti-human at least one expression of this sentiment was.

Karine Ruby won the first Olympic gold medal in snowboarding, at the 1998 games. In the words of one recent article about her, she became "the most decorated female snowboarder in the world, with 2 Olympic medals, 6 world championship titles and 67 snowboard World Cup victories."

Unfortunately, that article was her obituary in the New York Times. On a mountain climb, she fell 70 feet to her death.

The Times included one passage that some people might find incendiary. Here it is:

"'In the snowboarding world, she was an unavoidable icon,' Joel Franitch, the French Skiing Federation's director of snowboarding, said in a telephone interview. 'It's a huge loss for the sport."

Did you see the offending text? "French Skiing Federation."

What gives?

Here's the answer. The Olympic games are run by the International Olympic Committee, or IOC. For each sport, the IOC picks which governing body sets the rules for who can participate. When the IOC decided it wanted to have snowboarding in the games, it had to pick which organization to deal with. There was an existing organization for snowboarders, but the IOC instead picked FIS, the worldwide skiing organization. That move provoked some anger among snowboarders, and the world's leading snowboarders refused to participate.

Over 20 years later, a few people are not willing to let that sleight go, as revealed by the following conversation I had on Twitter with a party I'll call "AS." My comments are preceded by "GOT." I've done some editing, if you can't tell.

AS: honestly was Karine Ruby a f---ing saint or something? Her skis were stuck together and called a snowboard

GOT: Karine Ruby a saint? No. But she was a pioneer, champion snowboard racer, etc. Too much anger there? Why?

AS: pioneer of what keeping snowboarding in the ski genre? Racing isn't snowboarding, she's dead people deal with it

GOT: Still mad about the role of FIS? You *are* an angry dude. I beg to differ: snowboarders *can* race.

GOT: BTW, remembering someone's contributions and life is in fact a way of dealing with death. Is that a problem?

AS: hard booting carvers are nothing more than spandex wearing wannabe skiers that couldn't hack it ski racing

AS: also how many people knew and remembered her before she died? These are the same people that suddenly cry about it, that's sad

GOT: Spandex ain't my thing either, but live and let slide, I say.

And I still do. I'm not a hardbooter, though I'm intrigued by it and may try it out sometime. I seldom watch snowboarding or skiing events (for one thing, they're hard to find on TV), but I do think that the death of anyone who has accomplished something and has a lot of life ahead of them is a sad, and a loss to many people. No man is an island, and all that.

So whatever you enjoy doing on the snow, do it, enjoy it, and be grateful for the opportunity to do it. And don't hate. Save your energy for something productive.

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.

Now THAT'S the Spirit

When it comes to sports, you can be passive, or you can be active. Being passive--that is, cheering on someone else--can have its value. After all, I've spent many hours watching my favorite college football team.

But what happens when the season is over? The Green Bay Press-Gazette ("Bad case of Packer's withdrawal?," January 27, 2008) has the right idea: Get out of the house.

now that the Green Bay Packers season is over, an even harsher reality is slapping you in the face.

It's cold. It's depressing. It's not even worth leaving the house without 18 layers of clothing and an army of ice scrapers.

But winter's frigid chokehold on the state doesn't have to feel so miserable.

Here's what we suggest: Don't just face it. Embrace it.

Now that's the spirit, and author Thomas Rozwadowski goes on to suggest some winter activities, including snowboarding. You may find that you don't even need to be a mere spectator.

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 was 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.