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.
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.