Like the Mountains Miss the Snow

For the past 15 years, I've been riding RIDE snowboards. Perhaps because my first board was a RIDE, and due to my loyal aquarius nature, I have remained with RIDE. Up until now.

Lately, I have been in the market for a new snowboard. And while I am set in my ways (stubborn), I've had my eye on a Burton board. At first I was hesitant. This board was nothing like the board I was used to riding, but the sales clerk was so convincing, that after months of hesitation, I decided to go for it. Something about this particular board drew me in, and I decided it was worth the risk.

Putting all my trust into this Burton, I took it out for our first ride. I admit, that on this particular day, I was struggling with some personal stuff, debilitating my sight and judgment. But snowboarding sets me free, and I could not wait to feel my board carving through the most delicate powder, releasing my turmoil into the earth.

I drove to the mountains with anticipation, knowing my passion would settle my troubled mind. I needed this. I needed a change. There is something to be said about experience. It was time to bury the past and experience Burton's ride. As I looked at the aesthetic beauty of my new board, it was hard to imagine that I had resisted it for this long. This board was pure, unaffected.

I arrived at my destination. The smell of cool mountain air refreshed me from sleepless nights, and I began to feel the hunger I lost. I strapped in, and started down the mountain. The snow was powder, the wind was soft, the ride was perfect. I rode for hours without inhibition, forgetting every seasons' injuries (a couple of broken bones will really fuck up your ride for a while).

Evening came, and I felt tired and hungry. Satisfied, I decided to go home. That night, I slept, deeply. I dreamed about Mt. Hood, Breckenridge, and Mammoth. I dreamed about 360's, ollies, and tail rolls. It was delicious.