What goes down

A splinter jabbed my palm, blisters tormented my heels and tracks of sweat cut through the hot dust crusting my skin. A sweltering sun pressed down heavily and shifting scree disrupted every uphill step. My legs ached, my arms ached, and thirst furred my tongue.
When I signed up to have a go at one of the world’s barmiest adrenaline sports, I’d forgotten that what goes down, must lug itself up first.
I was halfway up Cerro Negro, a soot-black and decidedly active volcano in Nicaragua to try my hand at volcano boarding – a pursuit not dissimilar to tobogganing, should Mont Blanc occasionally belch clouds of ash over its surrounding valleys.
The splinter came courtesy of a wooden contraption slicked with formica on the underside, on which I intended to hurl myself down the volcano’s precipitous flank.
My 20-strong group trudged towards the summit, all panting, perspiring, and secretly wondering whose stupid idea this had been.
When at last we made it to the summit, we paused to gaze down at the astonishingly green fields that sprouted at the mountain’s base. But we hadn’t climbed all this way for a pretty view.
Our guide was chivvying us to our feet, his curly hair quivering with excitement.
Up we stood, and on went our orange jumpsuits and mad-scientist goggles. We were ready.
“So who’s going first?” our guide asked, sparking a mass shuffle backwards.
One girl stepped forwards, jaw clenched, and perched her board on the lip of the slope. One deep breath, and she tipped over the edge.
The orange figure blurred briefly before tottering sideways and ending in a heap. Our squad’s first crash. But within seconds she was back on the board, sailing to sea level.
Inspired by her success, the others began disappearing over the edge like lemmings.
And then it was my turn. Jelly legs carried me from safety towards a gradient that suddenly looked almost vertical.
All too quickly, I was sitting on the frighteningly rickety board, dizzy fear pooling in my stomach. Somehow, I found the guts to lean forwards.
As I began to gather speed, fear was replaced by wild elation. The joy of a thousand roller-coaster rides coursed through me as I reached what felt like a bullet-fast speed, flecks of rock rising in my wake as I shot onwards.
All too soon, my speed ebbed as the terrain flattened until I stopped, crumpled and ecstatic, at the volcano’s foot.
One thought lodged in my mind: I’m coming again tomorrow.
After all, the climb up wasn’t that bad.