I actually went mountainboarding this weekend!  And I actually rode at a different spot.  Wow, will wonders never cease. 

It was good!  It started out not-so-good, but as soon as I got over myself, I was fine.

Hillbilly Hill

We rode at Hillbilly Hill, a lil’ spot lovingly crafted by Brian “Hillbilly” Southard.  He’s created a sweet, yet tough run.  When you drop-in for the first time (especially not riding for a little while) it takes some balls just to do it.  There is only one track, one way to go.  The first kicker is about 4-5 feet tall, with a 8ft table.  Not so bad by itself, but immediately after that you get confronted with another 4-5 footer, but this one a bit steeper with a fairly-gnarly 8-9 ft gap.  Followed up by a slight turn into a slight hip and another small gap.  And if you’re still up, you ease out of it with a couple rollers and a wallride.

That second hit did me in. 

I took me down, tweaked my knee, and basically made me feel like a puss.  Like I shouldn’t even be calling myself a mountainboarder anymore. Like I was old, fat and washed-up (two out of three ain’t bad!).

So I felt sorry for myself for a little bit, then got so annoyed with myself that I hopped on the board and did a run.  Cleared everything – sketchy, but alive – and went on to have a pretty damn good day!  Nothing to write home (or to you, gentle reader) about, but it reminded me of why I love mountainboarding and sports of it’s ilk: the joy that comes from doing something that scares you and not listening to that scared little voice inside.

Even if you are old and fat.

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