My Snowboard Shaman

One of the last days at Montage ended up being not just one of the best days of my life but a day where i broke a barrier.

It was a strange occurrence, i ran into Austin before i made my initial embark down Cannonball as tradition goes: i always go Cannonball first, but Austin derailed that perfectly with a compliment about my MomMade fur snow pants.

He was on his way to some shack and was grabbing a 12 pack but we agreed to meet at the park in due time. He had no idea that this day especially I was dreaming about throwing a front flip.

The Bluebird day was as perfect as gets as I embarked down Cannonball and did my NorthFace routine of Cannon, Boomer, and White Lightening. Smoke was closed or I would have hit that too. Once my legs and buoyancy was dialed in, I started my trek to HighBall lift and to the rope-tow park Tucker, Luke and the boys assembled for us this year. My penguin slides (never rock poles unless its Vermont and above) took their final saunter as I already had my pass ready to go through the card reader. Its a little higher up then the other lifts, so your best bet is to just hold the card right to it, and that i did. Taking a nice relaxing plop onto the chairlift, ascending to the less steep, but tippy-top of the mountain. As I passed the racing water slide used at the summer water park and through the farthest scope of my eyes I could faintly make out a couple skiers throwing front flips on the last jump on Park. My stomach felt fluttery envisioning myself sending a steezy frontie. Man, how sick that would feel. I’ve landed 720s, and maybe 1 or 2 900s in my life, but other than one time on a snow packed day on a side jump my buddy Nino made on Lower Runway, where i threw the worst front flip of your life and landed on my back. I never went inverted. Just that one time, and I didn’t even count it. A couple times on my 540s and 720s multiple friends have said I went cork, but I did that by accident, never intentional. The intention is what makes it scary, and I did intent on flipping today. An ever evading milestone in my ski life.

I finally made it to the Park after carelessly jibbing my way down HighBall and into Mainline where the rope-tow park resides.

Again, as I get there, a line of skiers and one snowboarder all throw front flips, one or two of them might not have made it fully, but the attempt is still honorable.

Its echoing in my brain to try it, but i know I gotta warm up first. I see Austin, but at this time I didn’t even know his name. We give each other a head nod as he remained chilling off to the side with a few other boarders. I hit the jib with the back end of skis lofting forward to a rail that is slightly up. I don’t hit it, and don’t hit the jump but do a 540 butterish thing off the knuck a few feet aside from the jump and where the other guys have been front flipping. It was kind’ve steezy, but I can do that in my sleep, its not a scary trick unless its off a huge jump. So I jumped back on the rope tow, hit basically the same run, but this time i hit the rail i bailed on because some guy said I should since the jump to it was perfect. And that i did, same run essentially but again clean.

Then I reached the top and just stood in self-reflective terror and misery as the line of guys again go for a front flip train. I watched in awe and slight jealously, “I should front flip. Today is the day to flip.” I said to myself and out of nowhere like a mirage of my imagination, the guy, Austin, the shaman said as if he could read my mind.

“Fuck it and Huck it. Fuck it and Huck it.” and it clicked.

“Fuck it and huck it” i said as steam rolled to the knuck, skipping every feature, knowing I cannot disappoint him. And, I did, I did the fake frontie maneuver and did literally nothing, but I can’t disappoint him again and I jumped right back on the rope tow, and this time when i reached that knuckle, I did exactly what he said and fucked and it hucked it. To disastrous results, on my back, skis popping off, but I was alive and well and excited.

I got the family jewels going and hucked it 3 more times. I was learning simultaneously with an 11 year old who was trying his first front flip. We both stopped after it became obvious that injury was coming unless our form miraculously changed. I didn’t stop skiing aggressively though, and joined a pack of skiers and boarders hitting a down tube thing and then a big up tube. I didn’t throw anything crazy but the features alone were medium gnarliness. It felt easier than expected especially after going inverted. My buddy Moz was in the pack and we reconnected after seeing and riding with each other the week before. After some sessioning and saying we were going to hit Cannonball a thousand times, we officially left the park and headed to Cannon.

We skipped across a break in the snow that jetted water down Bunny Slope and crashed (metaphorically) and swerved down Cannonball with reckless abandon. One of the most serene moments in life is party-hopping a slope together, don’t have to get too sendy, but the rush of flowing down a slope with your Boys is a top-tier life experience. I felt invincible as we adjourned the lift to chill and talk sesh. We decided Austin needed to create a skit or series about him being: “The Montage Shaman” guiding riders to their peak and past their fears like he did for me. We laughed and chuggled the whole ride.

Moz let us know he was beat and was going to take off once we got off the life, but Austin & I still felt fresh and we hit the NorthFace hard before departing. He ended up giving me a ride and we chilled at my place for a little.

Amazing, how you can become best friends with someone after like 5 hours of knowing them.