I’d caught glimpses of snowboarders in halfpipes on television and from chairlifts while riding over terrain parks on ski mountains. But I had never before stood on the edge, mere feet (sometimes even inches) from the bodies and boards of snowboarders being catapulted up into the air as they launched out of the halfpipe to perform tricks. While we made our way along the top edges of the halfpipe installing banners, snowboarders (mostly young and mostly male but from the four corners of the globe) vied for slots in the competition at week’s end. They performed bizarre handstands on the halfpipe edges before plunging back into the tube and zooming back across to the other side. Or they launched high into the air, twisting, turning or flipping before dropping back into the tube. Trick after trick until they reached the bottom of the halfpipe. Occasionally one would fail to execute a trick successfully or would land before managing to get their snowboard back under his feet. In fact, crashes seemed frequent and dramatic, but severe bodily damage was rare.

It bears mentioning that snowboarding is not merely a sport. It is an attitude. A style (albeit an unabashedly self conscious and unstylish style) and a protocol. Even a vernacular. Perhaps a bit like surfing in its heyday, snowboarding has become a lifestyle. Boarders, as they refer to themselves, affect a quasi “rebel without a cause”, quasi pampered adolescent demeanor. They have adopted and perfected the grunge look of the 90s, though they are indisputably brand-savvy and quick and willing to plaster their snowboards and clothing with advertisements for every sort of merchandise imaginable. Despite an exceedingly laid back disposition, boarders’ interest and animation revs up a notch or two when it comes to discussing snowboarding tricks, maneuvers and equipment; other snowboarders; snow conditions, or bands and music related products like MP3 players. And when they get revved up, their speech is riddled with slang as cryptic as it is colorful.

If this outsider’s view seems overly pejorative, let me attempt a more complementary counterpoint. Snowboarders are infused with a brazen fearlessness and willingness to take bold physical risk that is staggering to the neophyte observer. Snowboarding is an extreme sport! If snowboarders’ comical costumes (baggy oversized parkas and ski pants scarcely concealing their posteriors, the crotch of their pants bunched between their knees) and inane utterances (“going big”, “way phat”, “totally core”, “gibbing”, etc.) simply qualify them as typical 21st century adolescents (in fact or in spirit), then the heart-stopping feats they attempt and often – miraculously often – succeed in executing deem them exceptional and even rather dazzling.

After setting up the banners, my brother and I headed off to ski. And ski we did. Since the mountain was new to us and since new snow had just arrived, every run was an adventure. We initially worked out the kinks on Upper Tamarack and North American, a couple of moderately challenging, broad snowfields with ample room for bumps and powder/groomed cruising on the same pistes. There were relatively few skiers on the hill, so the lift lines were negligible. Before long we had established a rhythm that would prevail throughout our stay: roughly 35% of our time was spent skiing and 65% on lifts. And this without lift lines! It’s not that the lifts run so slowly; it’s that the terrain is fast and slopes remained lightly populated throughout our time at Stratton. We also explored several of the Bear runs. Our favorite soon became Grizzly Bear, a relatively narrow, snow-filled trail with a couple of nice, loose zig-zags. some challenging bumps stretches, and fabulous fall-away jumps along the left side of the trail. At over 6 feet tall and over 200 pounds my brother and I both gravitate toward these sorts of lift-off opportunities to savor a rare taste of ether. The most disappointing trail was definitely Bear Down which had virtually waist-deep, solid ice moguls, yielding it almost unskiable. Frankly, it should have been better marked or closed.

We reconvened for lunch and then headed off to set up the advertising banners at the slopeside start gate. We used battery powered screw guns to mount about a dozen glossy, plastic panels on the wooden structure which wrapped around the judging booth. In about an hour we had transformed a 2x4 wooden skeleton into a rather photogenic marketing wonder for Philips, Jeep, Stratton, Sobe drinks and, of course, Burton. Once our task was completed, the rest of the afternoon was free for skiing. We took full advantage, continuing to familiarize ourselves with the mountain, pushing the fitness envelope more than the risk envelope to reduce the likelihood of a missing a day for bodily healing…

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