Nine-thirty a.m. My phone rings in that loud and obnoxious cell phone ring. I wasn't quick enough digging through my bottomless purse. It's filled with receipts, gum wrappers, and dirt covered pennies. I finally get to the phone as the message symbol lights up. As I enter the pin I realize what a gorgeous day it is outside, perfect weather to 'shred the gnar.' Not too cold, and so bright. Just then I hear his voice, Dan asking me to pick him up on the way to the mountain. How did he know I was going to go riding today, I haven't talked to him in two weeks. Ten-fifteen. Dressed and ready to go, I load my cumbersome board into the back of my tiny car and crank the radio. Misfits! Sweet perfect music to pump me up for a full day of riding. Ten-twenty-five. I honk twice, realizing I never called him to let him know I was coming. For all I know he could have gotten a ride already. Ten-thirty-two. Honk again. Just as I was about to leave he comes running out. Board, jacket and boots in hand, pants unbuckled and falling down, still in his suede moccasin he loads up and jumps in the car. Gloves? I said even before hello. Shit! He opened the door and ran inside the house, or might I say, waddled, trying to keep his pants up. Ten-forty-five. Finally leaving for the mountain, barely exchanged hellos before we started singing loudly. Eleven o'clock. White snow covered the entire mountain and nothing else. First run of the day is always the best, you’re just so happy to be cruising down a steep mountain with not a care in the world. No one can get in your way (till at least the third run). It was rather crowded for a Wednesday morning, then again it is Mountain Creek, the NYC playground. One-thirty. Need to get in the riding now, come three o'clock all the local groms will take over. As the day went on the trails seemed to become more and more crowded. You constantly had to look over your shoulder for a passerby, or someone out of control. Two-twenty. We approached the learning center, a narrow turn leading to the half pipe. There were people everywhere, and no place to go. He was in front of me as I called the inside. I slowly crept up along side of him but in his blind spot. He turned too quickly and clipped the edge of my binding. He got a nice taste of my edge. Rolling around on the ground, but not saying a word, I unstrapped and ran to him. Please tell me he's alright. Are you alright? I knelt down over him. A painful look was suddenly replaced with a smirk. “I see Blue, he looks glorious.” Reciting a line from a rather well know movie of the time, I shoved him and said get up in an angry but joking tone. Four-thirty. Muscles starting to tense up from the fall earlier. The warming sun hiding behind the trees making it cold and dark, we decide to take our last few runs of the day. But we never call it last run, that’s a no-no in the snowboard world. Five-ten. We head to the car and peel off the wet layers of clothing. Time to go home and get dinner and a couch. Peace out, sucka, he's say as he get out of the quiet car.
