Epi'b'logue

The snow is melting, the mountain is showing muddy patches like an unpleasant rash and the downtown shops are focussing on sales of mountain bikes. I'm at the end of the season and the end of my career break. Like most people on the course I finish slightly disappointed, not so much because the season is at an end but because I didn't meet the unrealistic expectations I initially had about the ability I would attain by the end of the season.

I expected to be able to:

- comfortably land 360 spins off drop-ins and jumps (at best I land the occasional 180);

- drop in from 10 foot verticals (I may have once dropped in from about 5 foot);

- grab and shifty the board (I can often get an Indy grab, but not much else);

- fluidly ride tight trees (I still have to scrub my speed after two or three turns).

However, more optimistically, I can now ride most on-piste terrain (and can survive off-piste) and my freestyle riding is reasonable given that there is no park at Fernie to practise in. So despite slight disappointment at not being the Mr Miyagi of snow, I'm happy with the progress I've made and am confident that I can now get the most out of the resorts on future winter holidays. I'd like to think that this season is just the beginning and I can now start to work towards achieving those objectives over the coming years (as long as my dodgy knees and ankles can hold out!)

Thanks for reading!

Avoiding the touch

I apprehensively accept my backpack, roll mat, shovel and winter sleeping bag - essential items for surviving the impending winter camping trip I foolishly signed up for at the beginning of the course. Although I don't normally consider myself claustrophobic, the thought of sleeping for 8 hours in a six foot deep hole in the snow, large enough to only fit three men, raises concerns. It'll certainly be cosy, particularly after I insist on a reasonable gap between me and the guy I'll be lying next to.

The 15 minute hike to the area which will reside our 'snow hole' is made even more exhausting by my heavy backpack (I knew I shouldn't have packed all that pinot noir!). The snow hole sleeps up to three people and takes us approximately four hours to dig. Despite receiving compliments for our perfect cuboids, used to form the roof rafters for our hole, my procrastination in smoothing their surfaces and perfecting 90 degree corners means we are left completing our camp after sunset.

After eating all the food I was able to pack into my backpack, I turn in. The winter sleeping bags keep everything warm apart from my face and the limited space in the camp restricts the option to turn over, so I'm left to attempt sleep in one position. This'll be a very long night...hope I don't need a wee!

I'm shaken awake at 7:30 the next morning after achieving 6 hours of solid sleep and craving more. Maybe I can do this Ray Mears, outdoor thing (although I'm not overeager to return to a hole in the snow just yet).

Red rash

The long-awaited weekend at Red mountain arrives (the day after Red mountain receives over a foot of fresh snow) and with its luxury ski in/ski out apartment, equipped with private hot tub, it promises a lot. Helped by the clear blue skies, warm weather and empty slopes Red doesn't fail to deliver. Red mountain is much smaller than Fernie and boasts only two mountains, but what it lacks in quantity of terrain it makes up for in off-piste tree runs, no lift lines and (for today) untouched powder. But riding powder is exhausting...

Where the snow gets chopped up by skiers and boarders, flexed legs are critical to absorb all the undulations and pretty soon my quads are burning. But this pain seems insignificant compared to when I fall in powder: Putting an arm down to help myself up just leaves me with a buried arm; unstrapping to stand up leads to buried legs; and trying to roll out just leads to a buried Ian. I learn a valuable lesson, don't fall in powder!

After an exhausting day's riding I retire to a relaxing soak in the hot tub. Safety guidelines recommend a maximum stay of 15 minutes in the hot tub; a glass of champagne and several beers later I decide to get out after realising 4 hours have elapsed. That'll test those hot tub regulations. Now, I wonder if they'll know anything about this rash...

Although I would struggle to enjoy a full season at Red, mainly due to its limited number of runs, it would provide a great holiday destination, particularly if it receives the snowfall that I experienced. This trip to Red has also alleviated the cabin fever I was beginning to feel in Fernie. Maybe I can get another trip to a BC resort before the end of the season.

Let's go riders, let's go

Besides snowboarding, skiing and curling, the Canadians go crazy for ice hockey. Here in Fernie the local team, the Ghostriders, are pretty successful and most of their players enjoy a fight so every Friday night we drink beer and watch the hockey like true Canadians. And whilst the Ghostriders progress through to the next stage of the playoffs, I'm experiencing less success with my snowboarding...

With level 1 now out of the way we're well into the AMP part of the course which is allowing us to ride around with less emphasis on perfect technique. But whilst the rest of my AMP group grow in confidence and ability I frustratingly find that my development has stagnated.

With the recent lack of improvement on the slopes and 11 days of riding ahead of me I decide to let my hair down and go for a couple of beers out in Fernie with a few friends...I awake the next morning with a sore head, a hazy memory, an empty wallet and a Yagerbomb taste in my mouth. I have vague recollections of some of the bars, but don't really remember who I spoke to (hope I wasn't too obnoxious). Fortunately I am greeted by my housemates with laughter and anecdotes about my funny behaviour at the party (...party?)