I was dripping sweat, but refusing to slow down.
I’m in my office, and Isobel’s just gently suggested that I need a break—some time away from screens. She’s right, of course, but it’s got me thinking wayyy back to my first backcountry ski trip where I was the only snowboarder. For some reason, that always sort of seems to be the case...
The memory comes flooding in, and suddenly I’m in college, it’s spring break, and a group of us are in Idaho, spending the week camping in the mountains. Our university offered an avalanche safety course, and a few friends and I had signed up, claiming a majority of the available spots in the limited group. We’d hiked in carrying our 50-pound backpacks, stuffed with everything from ski clothes and sleeping bags, to pots to cook with and food to eat, but each of us had also brought smaller packs to use for day trips. And I don’t think any of us were really prepared for just how much it was going to snow, anyway... Getting up in the middle of the night to the bathroom meant swimming through belly-button deep piles of the stuff.
One day, we’re out on a ridge, nearby to where we’re camping, and snow is falling in a flurry of fat, fluffy, flakes. We’d just ridden one of the deepest runs of our lives to date and, collectively, decided to hike back up and do it again. So, after grabbing some water and shedding a couple of layers, we began climbing.
It was my turn to go first.
As the only snowboarder, I’m hyper-aware of not doing anything that could slow the group down—snowboarders have enough of a PR problem as it is without giving folks more reasons to be prejudiced against us. So I’m hauling ass up this ridge, keeping an extremely quick pace, and my lungs are on fire but I’m trying my hardest to hide it. I didn’t have to worry, no one was close enough for it to be an issue. Which is good, because sweat’s pouring down my back and soaking through my shirt under the pressure of my pack.
Once I hit the top of the ridge, I didn’t rest.
I grabbed my layers from my bag, flipped my board and bindings from hiking mode to riding mode, and was ready to go by the time the last person in the group popped through the trees and plopped down on the ground next to us.
That’s when I rested; while they were getting ready to go.
Back in my office, I’m wondering why I still do that.
Our Daily MAP Year Prompt
255/365
When do you rest—before you need it, or after you’re cooked?
onward.
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