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I tried a new setup lately. Instead of degree angles of 0 and 24, I went with 0 and 15. That is, I decreased the forward lean of my front foot by one-third.

Why? I was told it would make riding switch easier. I’m not sure about that. It took me a while to get used to the new arrangement–and that was just in riding forward. I did not spend much time riding switch.

Body size, riding ability, and experience vary greatly across riders, so there’s probably no such thing as the “perfect” stance for all. But some experimentation from time to time might be useful.

At one of my local ski areas, I noticed something I had never seen in about 18 or so days of riding there: a catwalk. I noticed it from a chairlift, but also saw that it was fenced off.

Then I looked at the trail map, and sure enough, there was the cat. I also noticed three or four other “trails” that I have never seen open. And they’re not necessarily high-skill routes. There are also two trails that I’ve seen open only twice, on a powder day.

It seems that some skepticism in reading marketing material is in order.

. . . I will be able to ride as well as Duke, if I’m lucky.

After conducting an introductory lesson for two middle school students, I took in some recreational riding. I noticed a guy standing on the top of a hill, with some snowboard students sitting on the ground near him.

Eventually (after a few runs intervened), I caught up with this group. Wanting to learn more by watching someone else teach, I asked the teacher if I could shadow him for the rest of his class. He said that would be fine. He, by the way, is Duke, who is 65 years old. A long-time skier, he added snowboarding to his skill set a few years ago. (He teaches both).

Duke had a class of sixth graders, who were in some sort of 6-week program through their school. The first thing he had them do after I joined up was to ride from point A to point B, through point C. Point C was a spot on the side of a knoll, in between two patches of dirt.

Targeted riding? That got my attention.

The next thing he asked the students to do was to follow him over a small kicker. He instructed each rider to ride over, but not off, a small bump.

Most of them did, and met up with Duke a short pace beyond the bump. I joined them as well, but only after riding far clear of the bump.

At this point, Duke reviewed some of the progress that the group had made in the four weeks so far: 180 jump turns; catching a little air; carving. Then he showed how to ride off a picnic table, offering “you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” I was one of the few who did not.

We joined up for a little meeting again, and Duke put them through a drill emphasizing rapid edge-to-edge changes. Oh yes, and next week’s topic? Bumps.

Did I mention that these kids had (with perhaps a couple exceptions) never been on a snowboard before the four lessons with Duke?

Or that he had not just 2 or 3 kids, but . . . 16?

After the edge-to-edge drill, their time was up. Duke and I rode together for perhaps another 45 minutes after that. Like I said, I hope I’m that good when I’m his age.

Yesterday I watched the final events culminating in the selection of the U.S. snowboarding team. Or at least I watched the portions that NBC chose to air. It would have been nice to see some more of the competitors, such as Keir Dillon. The network kept the camera on the competitors in close contention to make the team (so Dillon’s runs, for example, were not shown). Considering that the show ended at 40 minutes after the hour, and lead into yet another ice skating something or other, there certainly was time for some extended views. Except, I guess, the viewers aren’t there–at least not in the range of ice skating.

But why should an old fogey watch snowboard competitions such as the X games, or Olympic qualifiers? Do I have any hope of ever jumping 8 feet out of the halfpipe? Do I even go into the halfpipe? Just barely. On a very good day I can connect turns in the pipe, but I focus on cruising on the trails. And, well, let’s not talk about snowboard cross or the 10 foot jumps of slopestyle.

So why watch? For the same reason that I enjoy watching a wide receiver cross over the middle, catch a football going 30 miles per hour, take a beating from a defensive back and still hang onto the ball. It’s that I marvel at the talent and dedication of such individuals–not that I expect to replicate their feats.

Did you ever make a turn and then just plop down, with your board out of gas?

I noticed that if I don’t take an effort to finish my heelside turn the board will chatter, lose speed, and I’ll fall to the ground. Not good. (This could happen in toeside turns as well, but it almost always happens only in heelside turns.)

There are several reasons why this might happen to you (or me). One is that the tip of the board has actually started going back uphill, meaning a loss of speed. To make sure that I continue going forward–and this is especially true when I want to follow a turn with a heelside traverse–is to shift my weight towards the tip of the board. I think of it as a little hip shift.

Old folks are more likely to have bad knees.

Snowboarding enthusiasts like to say that riding is easier on the knees than skiing is.

But face it, there is one place where riding puts a strain on the knees that you won’t ever face on skis.

While skiing, you can often stand on the ground with two feet out of the skis, step into one binding, and then another. No strain on the knees.

If you fall, you might be able to repeat this process. If you don’t want to step out of the bindings–say, if the terrain is too step for simply stepping in–you can use the poles to help, diverting some of the weight from the knees and legs to the poles and upper body.

But what happens when you are riding, and fall on your behind? You could look downhill with your butt on your heels, and then stand up. Doing so puts a lot of strain on your core muscles, your legs, and your knees. Ouch!

There’s an alternative. Do the turtle roll. It’s hard to describe, and looks silly, but here’s what happens: instead of standing up, roll one shoulder (right if you are goofy, left if you are regular) into the hill, stick your feet into the air, and then land your feet back to the ground–with your toes now facing uphill.

It’s surprisingly easier to get up this way, and easier on the knees.

The American Association of Snowboard Instructors has published a skills progression to help you figure out how much your riding has advanced.

But perhaps a more informal guide should be established as well. You know that you’re learning how to ride when:

– You can finish messing with your bindings even as you start sliding down the hill.

– You can, with ease, descend from a chair ramp lift of varying grades. This includes snowboard-friendly gentle grades and steep grades first designed for advanced skiers.

– You no longer ask your soon-to-be lift chair companions “Can we switch places? It’s a lot easier for me to head right (left) off the chair.” You adapt to whatever the lot of the line gives to you.

– When you come to a stop on a trail, you don’t have to sit down; can balance yourself over your toes, or even heels.

– When you’re at the base of the mountain or hill, you don’t have to unbuckle to get from one lift to another. You can skate, without the board always slipping out from under you.

– You can go down a trail without using the entire width for speed control.

– While at the lift, you can slide into the right place for loading, without slip-sliding into place.

– You’re not afraid of riding the lift with anyone.

– You start thinking of how you can teach your family and friends how to ride.

– You start thinking of changing your binding angles for different kinds of snow conditions.

– You can recognize how different kinds of snow affect your riding.

– You can ride on ice as well as on corduroy.

I’ve never tried using poles while snowboarding. Good thing, you say? Indeed.

I have read that some people, including a doctors’ group, recommend using poles to help with the early days of riding. A woman I have skied with while during my Colorado trips has tried riding a board in her home state of Michigan. She says that she has tried using poles. Now I wish I had remembered how that experiment worked out.

Skiers–and here I mean people using two sticks to slide down the mountain, not “skiers” in the generic sense of snow sliders–use poles in at least four ways: for moving across the flats; as a prop while learning how to ski; for help in getting up small hills or going up big hills for a short distance; and finally, for establishing rhythm during turns (pole plants).

Snowboarders are in some ways at a disadvantage for not having poles.

Getting across the flats requires keeping up speed, a somewhat dangerous proposition. Why is that? On steeper terrain, you’ve got more of a built-in angle between the edge of the board and the ground. You can be a little sloppy by not paying as much attention to the edge angles.

But on the flats, you have lost that margin for error. If you tilt up on edge at the wrong time, or to the wrong degree, you will be punished with the dreaded “face plant” or “butt plant.”

You may, on the other hand, wish to ride through a flat with a board that is nearly, well, flat. This means that you’re going to pick up speed–perhaps more than you are comfortable with.

One way out of this challenge is to skate, whereby the front foot is in the binding and the back foot propels the board. But this has its own difficulties. Most beginning riders have no experience on a skateboard, and skateboarding is what you are doing when you are skating on a snowboard. Further, you are, most likely, going to start your riding career with a stance that is nearly 0-0 degrees. That is, if you draw a line from the tip of the board to the tail, your knees will be standing perpendicular (a 90 degree angle) to that line.

What this means is that while skating, your head will be looking beyond the tip, your back foot will be moving in a line next (parallel) to the board, but your front foot will be pointed sideways to the direction you are pushing. Not only can this be a strain to your knees, it’s just plain unusual, which is to say, awkward.

Can poles be a prop for learning how to ride? I have my doubts that this is a good idea. Poles are good for skiing. In skiing, your toes are lined up with the tip of the boards; in snowboarding, your toes usually … aren’t. So the way that you turn, the way that you stand, the way …. It’s all different. Where and how would you use poles, anyway?

Even if you are able to use poles a crutch early on, eventually you would not need them. Then what do you do? You’ve developed habits and muscle memory that will cause problems with riding.

Neither are poles useful in initiating turns, as they are in skiing. Riding requires a different logic.

Which brings us to using poles to get oneself up small inclines. The most common place that riders (or at least this rider) face this problem is when there’s a dip in the land between the end of the ramp and the start of the piste.

When you face a situation like this, you have this sequence:

– Leave the chair, with the back foot outside the binding.
– Come to a stop, even though one’s ability to use edge control has been compromised by the fact that only one foot can actually control a binding.
– Get into the binding and start sliding down.
– oops! Did you forget that ever-so-slight incline? No sliding for you! Unbuckle and walk up that incline. Re-buckle.

This is where having poles around would be helpful. Or would it? Very few riders (carvers, mostly) ride with stance angles anywhere approaching those used by skiers–that is, with the toes of both feet pointing to the tip of the board.

Given that, using poles could be rather difficult.

And assume for a moment that you could use the poles to maneuver to the next place where you can start sliding downhill. What do you do with the poles? Reduce them, sci-fi like, into something that would fit into the palm of your hand? Throw them off to the side of the trail and hope that someone can hand them to you next time you come by?

No, using poles on a snowboard just doesn’t work. Riders must find other ways to cope with the problems that make the use of poles an interesting possibility.

This season, I’ve been working on an occasional basis as a snowboard instructor. I’ve discovered a couple of benefits of being an instructor.

Let’s deal with the most obvious benefits, which turn out to be not that important. First, the free lift ticket. I already bought a season pass elsewhere, so I certainly didn’t need to teach to get a pass. Second, the pay. Unless you’re teaching private lessons and working in the Rockies (and I’m doing neither), you’ll be to have much to show financially for your troubles when your costs of commuting, ski school jacket, and (if applicable) testing fees for certification. Sure, you do (if you’re AASI certified) get some discounts on gear, but I suspect that the discount prompts people to spend more than they otherwise would, making for at best a marginal financial gain.

No, the primary benefits of teaching are not in the paycheck. There is first of all finding some camaraderie and riding partners for those off-duty rides.

The biggest benefits are to one’s riding abilities. There’s nothing to clarify your thinking and sharpen your knowledge of any skill, including snowboarding, than in demonstrating, explaining, and sharing it with someone else. As a bonus, ski schools often conduct clinics for their instructors, meaning that instructors learn from each other.

Taking lessons benefits students. Giving lessons benefits teacher.

Narrow trails can be intimidating, especially if they are catwalks. But in my last couple of outings, I came across one method of dealing with them. It’s such an obvious approach that it’s worthy of a “D’Oh!”

The answer: make quick edge changes. Lots of ’em. Or to put it another way, make your turns as tight as you can.

Easier said than done, right? It may feel that doing this will only make you go faster on the narrow spots, something that may not be comfortable. But then again, the faster you go, the quicker you can get out of the narrow spots and into more something with a more forgiving width.

Using rapid edge changes has another advantage: it goes a long ways towards making sure that you’re not going to get into trouble by going off the trail.