*I started this post in September but am just finishing it down for posting…sue me??

Rus and I have been wanted to try snowboarding for some time.  We both enjoy downhill skiing and have dabbled in cross-country skiing, but the popularity of snowboarding has tempted us to “give it a go”, as the saying goes here.

Our new flatmate, Simon (age 28, Kiwi from Auckland), has been a couple of times and has his own gear.  He was keen to go to Mt. Hutt, the most popular and commercialised ski field in the area, about 90 minutes from Christchurch.  Winter sport lovers come from all over the world, especially Europe and Japan, during the Southern Hemisphere ski season to experience the snow and the views from the Southern Alps.

Rus and I hired (”rented”) our snowboards and boots from a shop just a stone’s throw from our house.  Once we were geared up, we were on our way to the mountain.  It was another glorious day - not a cloud in site!  We drove down a road on which we had never been on but saw more of the same flat pastures and rolling hills - and, of course, lots of sheep!  Eventually, we made our way to the access road to Mt. Hutt, and that’s where the fun really began!

Since this ski field is quite popular, the road leading to the lodge is wider (two whole lanes!) and, while still rough (as in, not paved), it was not as treacherous as the one we climbed to get to Mt. Cheeseman.  As we winded our way up the 16km road, we were treated to incredible views of the Canterbury Plains, extending all the way to the ocean to the east, the Inland Kaikouras mountain range to the north, and even more snow-covered alps to the south.  It was another one of those “don’t look down” kind of roads - no guard rails - and no chance of survival if you went over the edge.   We were well above the tree line; there were only a few rocks and chairlifts, and many little moving dots of people zig-zagging on the huge white mass in front of us.  Although I was excited to try something new, there is something uncomfortable and intimidating about going into a day where you know you are going to fail (in this case, end up on your butt) all day long.

When we finally arrived at the top, we were directed to park in an overflow lot; the mountain looked quite busy.  It was Father’s Day here (Sunday, September 6th), and we were hoping most people would be enjoying their family time elsewhere.  Regardless, we gathered up our gear and made our way to the ticket counter to purchase lift tickets.  Since we were each inexperienced snowboarders, we all decided on staying strictly on the “Magic Carpet” - the “Bunny Hill”, in other words.  There was an option to upgrade our lift tickets for a reduced price later on in the day, if we wished.  Tickets were $44 a piece just for the Magic Carpet hill - yikes!  Needless to say, we decided to forgo the $95-an-hour snowboarding lessons…

The “Magic Carpet” is actually a conveyor belt that moves people to the top of a pathetic little slope for newbies.  Today, this pathetic little slope was covered, as it usually is, with tiny, young ski proteges… a recipe for disaster considering Rus and I are quite tall and would be far from graceful on our snowboards.  Nevertheless, I strapped the snowboard to one foot and awkwardly scooted myself toward the conveyor belt.

At the “top” (about 150 metres from the bottom and at a “very scary” 15 degree angle), I plopped down on my rear end and buckled my right foot to the board.  I stood up and readied myself to go down the hill…slowly…slowly…BAM!  First fall of the day, barely one minute into it.  I fell five more times before I made it down to the bottom of that little slope.

The rest of the day was more of the same…meaning that I did, indeed, spend a lot of time on my butt.  Or the occasional direct fall on the knees, some of them nearly knocking the wind out of me.  Kids laughed at me.  I actually got laughed at by some little punk demon child.  He pointed, laughed, and said, “Daddy, that girl just FELL!”.  I retorted, “Thanks for the vote of encouragement!” and was thankful his dad was there; I just might have smacked him.  Also, because of all the people and the slow-moving conveyor belt, it was actually faster to take the board off completely and walk back up the hill (adding to the exhaustion factor).

Throughout all the falling and dodging younglings, I did manage to get the hang of it…all while sweating my you-know-what off.  It was cold (obviously - snow - hello!?), but the blazing sun meant the layers were thin and few.  By the end, I was actually enjoying myself surfing across the snow (for however short the slope was) and looking forward to the next run - which would hopefully be free of painful falls.  (Note: Some of the photos are courtesy of Simon, who had two previous snowboarding experiences under his belt and hence decided to upgrade on his lift ticket.  Rus and I, fearing certain death if in error, decided to keep on the Magic Carpet).

And even though I looked longingly at the expert skiers skillfully swishing back and forth gracefully down the steep slopes, I was happy that I took the plunge and decided to “fail” for the day.  Perhaps that, indeed, actually, was my greatest success of the day!