It was grey and drizzling at 8:00 in the morning when Isabel and Dwayne came walking up to my house. I poked my head out the front door, “Be careful, the steps are icy!”

“You don’t have to tell me!” Dwayne replied as he hobbled up with a slight limp. “I slid down my front steps this morning.”

“I landed here,” He rolled up his sleeve and showed us his right elbow which was already bruising. “and here.” He pointed to the back of his pants and went to loosen his belt.

“No no! It’s cool! I trust you!” I said as I threw my snow gear into a gym bag. “Where’s Mauricio?”

Mauricio showed up a few minutes later as the three of us finished up some coffee and cinnamon bread my wife made. “I left my passes in my desk drawer at work. Jim says to have fun and not to kill ourselves out there.”

I thought of my friend Devin, who, years ago, broke his collar bone on two separate snowboarding trips as we discussed the slushy weather conditions on Afton mountain. “Do you think they’d still publish this week’s issue if we careened off an icy cliff and died?” asked Isabel as she settled in the driver’s seat.

“Probably.” we all agreed and hit the road to Wintergreen.

We entertained ourselves on the hour and a half long drive by making fun of Isabel’s music collection (a giant stack of loose CDs that consisted of three bands: Jimmy Eat World, Matchbox 20 and Dashboard Confessional) and playing sophomoric and inappropriate rounds of “Would you Rather” and “I Never” (the results of which are strictly classified, so don’t bother asking). Before we knew it, we were pulling into the resort and shimmying into our snow clothes in the gravelly parking lot.

Mandy came running up as we entered the rental equipment room, where patrons stomped clumsily around in their boots. “I used to date the guy behind the counter when I worked here six years ago! What’s he still doing here?” As we stood in line to get our gear, we ran into Clay, who was waiting in line for skis.

“You’re not going to snowboard?” I asked, lugging my equipment to where the others sat, strapping on their boots.

“I’ve got my snowboard in my car, but I haven’t been skiing in forever, so I thought I’d give it a shot.” He replied and he and his friends headed out the doors to the slopes beyond. 

We followed. It wasn’t cold and it wasn’t windy, but it wasn’t snowy either. A thick mist had settled over the slopes making visibility a chore. Isabel and Mandy, barely discernible at 20 feet, headed off in the opposite direction. “We’re going to take a class… you guys go ahead.”

Mauricio, Dwayne and I sat in the snow and struggled to get latched into our boards. “Are you ready?” I asked as we all stood up. Immediately, my board started sliding down the shallow incline and I pinwheeled my arms for balance. “Let’s go!”

I teetered and swayed and inched down the hill with my board perpendicular to the slope. I eventually stopped at an intersection, and looked behind me. Dwayne and Mauricio were nowhere to be found. To my right, a narrow path branched off under a little bridge. To my left, the trail continued down the mountain. I stood there hoping that the others would show up and help me decide which way to go. They didn’t. I got tired of waiting and chose left.

I finally made it to the bottom of the hill where a fast moving, six-person, ski-lift was shuttling people into the fog. I waited a few more minutes for Dwayne and Mauricio to arrive, but was too excited to wait long. I too, disappeared into the fog.

Visibility was worse at the top of the mountain. I managed not to fall when I got off the ski-lift and I inched down the hill again, hoping to catch up to anyone I knew. I passed right by the lodge without even seeing it, but heard Isabel’s distinctive laugh cut through the mist. I turned towards the sound.

She and Mandy each had a foot strapped into their boards and were being instructed by, Becca Prasse, a recent high-school graduate, who was patiently teaching them how to get into and out of their bindings. “Do I have my boots on the wrong feet?” Mandy asked as she struggled to get hooked in. Becca looked down, “Yes.”

I continued down the mountain in search of Mauricio and Dwayne. I could feel my seven year absence from snow sports begin to melt away as I got more comfortable with my turns. I finally made it to the ski-lift again and saw Clay and his posse coming from the nearby snack bar. “Nothing like a couple beers to loosen up the legs, right?” He and his friends got on the lift and I boarded behind them.

After a few more passes, I caught up with Mandy and Isabel halfway down the slope. Mandy looked frustrated. “This is hard!” She exclaimed, wiping sweat from her forehead. Isabel swung her arms to keep her balance, over-compensated and landed hard on her forearms, her fists tucked to her chest. “Becca taught us how to fall without breaking our wrists.”

“I just saw her doing 180s off the jumps in the terrain park, how come she didn’t teach you that?” I asked as Mauricio and Dwayne came sliding by suddenly. “Where did you two disappear to?”

“We didn’t disappear! You did!” Dwayne exclaimed, rubbing his ass. “I’m going to be one giant bruise tomorrow. I keep landing on the same parts I hurt on my steps.”

The sun finally poked through the clouds and the fog began to lift. Mandy, Dwayne and Isabel remained on the beginner slopes, swaying side to side down the mountain in the ‘falling leaf’ pattern. Mauricio and I ran into my friend Ben who talked us into joining him on the intermediate slopes which were situated beyond the little bridge. “I’m glad I didn’t go to the right this morning” I said as we picked up speed on the steeper slopes.

There were no lines at the lifts all day and the slopes were essentially empty except for the occasional ski class full of children. I was resting on the side of the hill with Ben after successfully navigating through one such group, when Clay came plowing to a halt behind us with a smile on his face. “My buddy Chris had to take leak and skied off the trail into the grass. He got about 20 feet in and hit a pile of gravel, popped right out of his skis and did a front flip into a giant patch of mud! It was hilarious!”

As the afternoon sun began to settle behind the mountains, I met Dwayne and Isabel at The Edge lounge to have a drink and get some food. Mauricio met us there rubbing his neck. “I totally ate it on that last run. The board slid out from under me and I smacked the back of my head on the ice!”

Otherwise, we escaped unscathed. Dwayne, Isabel and Mauricio went back out for one last night run while I waited on the back deck and watched the on-site medical team attend to a man with a freshly broken collar bone. When the others were done braving the icy slopes, we returned our equipment and hobbled back to Isabel’s car. We were tired, stinky and sore, but happy to have spent our “work day” on the slopes.

—Tod Parkhill