A Day On A Snowboard

While many small events led up to this point, I figured just like George Lucas, I would start in the middle. That's where it all gets interesting.

I had gotten ahead of Ashley when I came up to a split in the path with a sign indicating the trail we were on continued to the right. I later found out the trail to the left is simply known as "Alternate Route," however the sign provided no information about it. I waited about 30' past the sign, watching up hill for Ashley. When she appeared she was veering to the left. I started waving, then as she saw me, she turned to her right, heading in my direction. However, there was a lady standing still on skis in the middle of Ashley's turn. Ashley changed her turn and went straight for a moment to avoid hitting the lady then tried resuming her turn. However, when Ashley was going straight, she pick up some speed, and as she started the turn to the right, the board went out from under her to the left. Ashley ended up sliding on her right side with a lot of speed and came to an abrupt stop when her upper thigh hit one of the 4x4" posts for the sign.

I could see Ashley was obviously distressed as I undid my left buckle and hiked back to her. When I saw they tears on her face, I initially assumed it was just frustration over continually falling perhaps combined with a little embarrassment over not being able to stop. I know I was already experiencing frustration with my repeated falling. When she didn't say anything, and seemed unresponsive to us, I used the FRS radio to contact Steve, and asked for some direction. A moment later, two other skier's showed up. This turned out to be doubly fortunate, as the batteries in my FRS radio were giving out, and one of the men had a newer, but compatible radio. However, even more fortuitous was the other guy turned out to be a pediatrician, and after getting a few responses from Ashley, the doctor identified it as a possible fractured femur. Using the first guy's radio, we relay this information to Steve. Once Steve gets off the lift he was on, he advises the Ski Patrol of our situation. Finally, a ski patrol fellow shows up with a sled and asses the situation. He called for another Ski Patrol person to bring a traction device to stretch the leg out. Shortly after that, the second Ski Patrol fellow showed up. The ski patrol people explained to us that the if this was a true fractured femur, then once the traction device was in place, she would experience far less pain. And in fact, Ashley did confirm experiencing less pain. Just as the ski patrol were leaving with Ashley in tow, they asked if any one else saw it. I started to tell him what I saw, but he said I would have to give a written report, and told me the route I was to take to get to the ski patrol location.

Well, the tail back to the Ski Patrol station was basically the path we had intended to take anyway. However it also turned out to be rather problematic for me. I spent more time falling than actually snowboarding. In the few wide open spaces, I actually did okay, until I realized that I was heading away from the turn I needed to take for a trail called "Home Run." Once there, it seemed like the trail got much narrower and busier. My board wanted to head to the trees, then it wanted to take an exit for a another trail, this one a blue. Finally, I had one great success immediately followed by one great (and final) flub. I'm still not sure exactly how it all transpired. The success was short lived: I had nearly wiped out -- again -- but this time I pulled it out and recovered (Woo Hoo!). Unfortunately, I was now leading with the my left foot. Having spent most of my precious little boarding time leading with the right foot, I wanted to return to that position. I tried to turn around by bringing my right foot forward as if I was stopping with my heal edge. However, something went horribly wrong, and I ended up doing the exact opposite and actually boarding backwards. Well, as anyone might guess, that didn't last long, and I probably shouldn't call it boarding anyway... I ended up falling backwards down hill. I think I first landed on my back, then bounced, the second time I came down on the back of my head. Just take my word on this: landing head first is quite painful, the pain doesn't just show up at the point of impact, although it defiantly is there. That pain is instantly followed by a pair of matching pains: one feels like it is simultaneously shooting up and down the back of the neck, while a second does the same thing starting at the middle of the back. I've once heard that the brain is not capable of remembering pain. This time, I must disagree. Anyway, landing on one's head has a real functional advantage: it created sufficient friction at one end that it became a pivot point which resulted in the rest of my still floating body doing a 180. By the time the rest of me came in contact with the snow, the board was downhill again! The snowboard formed a much better break than my shoulders ever could.

At that point I came to a sudden realization: I was done boarding for the day. In general, its good to know when one if finished with something, it really helps bring closure to the experiences of life. However, in this instance, I think my timing was a little off, I still had a long way ahead of me. In any case, I undid the straps, grabbed the board, and started walking. At one point, several of the students who were up there with us came buy, doing rather well on their boards, they stopped for a moment, said hi, then went on their way. I got the FRS radio out again and attempted to call Steve or Tim. However, as my batteries were about dead, the thing decided I wanted to change channels, then codes. Actually, I think it had been doing that for awhile as I heard it counting my falls earlier. Did you know that even at a relatively fast clip, it can take over 5 minutes to cycle those radios through all 31 codes? I was bummed. I finally got it back to our channel and code, tried calling again, but when I let off the transmit button, it just chirped meaning (I think) that the battery was too dead to transmit. In any case, I tried once more, and it decided I wanted to change channels again. I put it back in my pocket.

There is a problem with repeatedly falling on ones rear without immediately getting up. Oh, I got up right away on the initial falls, but as some point along the way, I started loosing some of my enthusiasm (seriously, I did). Each time I spent a little time sitting on the ice, apparently I was developing an ice block on the tail of my shirt. Perhaps, in and of its self, not a real problem. Until one sits down in a plastic chair for 15 minutes while filling out an accident report. You see, while sitting, the ice melts, and the shirt goes from frozen to wet. But, it gets kinda warm and being kinda cold from a long walk down a mountain, one doesn't really notice it. However, at some point, a wet shirt tail leads to wet underwear. One notices this. So, I spent the next hour or two riding in a van with drenched underwear. I started to share that experience with those my fellow van passengers, but, the general consensus was that I was providing too much information. Perhaps.

We found out later that evening that Ashley did not have a broken femur, just a really, really bad bruise. All things considered, that was awesome news.

To answer the question everyone keeps asking, "Would you do it again?" Yes, I probably will. Need to before I can decide if I like snowboarding or not. Might bring a little more padding for the tail bone though.

Location: In this image you can see where I think we were at the time of Ashley's accident. These images are almost three years old, and I my recollection of the event suggests that some terrain features may have changed since then, e.g. the path on the East seems wider now. Note that North is to the top, and this location is just on the far side of mount Ord. In any case: we were coming down-hill from North on the top thicker path, and needed to take the first right to the thick East-West trail. The sign is located almost straight ahead as one comes out of the South bound tail.

The Sign: The sign was about 6 to 8 feet wide, and perhaps a foot tall. It was suspended about 6 feet above the ground on two 4x4" posts. The entire content of the sign was a green dot, an arrow pointing to the upper right corner, and the text "EVERGREEN."

FRS: Family Radio Service. A replacement for the CB (Citizen Band) radio service. FRS radios use FM signals and have the advantage of increased noise rejection.