Boomerang

Living in the Rocky Mountains, living in an isolated mountaintop paradise, living to snow board.

Sunshine Village.

Minus 20. Snow flakes falling. Three aussies. Inadequate clothing and footwear. Severely overloaded with luggage. In front of them brightly coloured, fast moving carriages suspended on a thin cable and traveling off in to the distance upwards of 2000 plus meters above rugged, rocky, snow covered outcrops, before vanishing off in to the unknown. This is us, and this is where we are going. The only way in and out of our 'home' for 7 months is via a cable car. In we pile. People, LUGGAGE, snowboards and our excitement. The view is astonishing. We are cutting through the Rocky mountains on the way to our village nestled amongst these colossal formations. The mountains with their sheer size are daunting; the starkness of the alpine landscape is apparent yet beautiful. It is big, bold, remote and an environment to be respected.

When we first arrived at the village with the remainder of the staff for the season the ski hill was not open to the public, nor were any of the lifts running. We had this winter playground to ourselves to explore and get to know one another. Some had, some hadn’t skied or snowboarded before. Heck, I had never even made a snow ball before, but I was determined to give it a go.

First things first, a hike up a steep snow covered mountain carrying this board that you were to strap to your feet with no real easy release mechanism, nor any brakes. The snow was hard and icy, the decent steep and fast. In hindsight perhaps I should have received some tips on how to ride before giving it a go but this didn’t happen. I now know you are meant to ride the board on one of the edges to slow yourself down and not to angle your board flat and straight down the hill - you will go very fast. There I was, standing strapped in, no escape, looking down at a big white hard punishment. Pretty much like riding an oiled oven tray down a refrigerator. With the cheers from the crowd, off I went, flat boarded, pointing the nose straight down the hill with absolutely no clue as to how to stop. I guess I was to figure this out in about 5 seconds, or let the mountain figure it out for me. I flipped, I flew, I rolled several times, my legs bent behind my head, and I stopped covered in snow like I had just been caught in an avalanche. It didn’t hurt. Let’s do it again. This time I caught an edge, flew through the air like a graceful swan, and then carried on with the swan dive face first in to the mountain with my eye socket breaking my fall. This one hurt a tad more.

Learning to snowboard is like crashing your car at high speed in to a tree daily.

It does get easier, the falls lessen. However, making self esteem issues worse are the 3 year old Canadian kids on their ski’s or baby boards carving it up around you as you sit on your sore ass, disillusioned and broken in the cold, hard snow. Patience and persistent and a whole tonne of guts and things start to get easier. When you get the hang of it it is amazing. You feel on top of the world. Then you start to think you are the shit and take more risks until the mountain yet again slams your arrogant over confident Aussie ass in to more cold hard reality.

The first time up the chair lift is always a memorable experience. Before boarding the chair you strap your front foot on to the board, the other you just leave dangling about to help you skate through the snow. So your front leg has a heavy long piece of wood attached to it and you are expected to hobble over to the lift and jump on to the seat as the chair swings around the corner at a hundred miles an hour to collect you. Oh no the lift doesn’t stop, in fact it doesn’t even slow down. Next to you on the slippery narrow platform, also hobbling about with a large log of wood attached to their feet are your buddies with just as little a clue as yourself. The chair lift scoops you up and there you are launched up the mountain. Higher and higher over beautiful white, steep terrain. Your only way down is to control this piece of wood strapped to your feet. Once you reach the top the chair lift it throws you off down a steep narrow ramp, 3 of you at a time each sliding in different directions.

Needless to say our first chair lift experience saw us crash spectaclary in a pile of snow and limbs laughing hysterically as the following lift hurled three more friends in to our pile of bodies, followed by a third lift just like a multi car collision on a slippery highway. Now, to get down this mountain on this piece of wood!