2009 Longboard Classic (part 2)

Race day was fast approaching. After an evening's drive through Switzerland and apparently the entirety of Lichtenstein (I fell asleep for 3 minutes) we reached Stuben am Alberg, Austria. We hit the pub after a quick dinner so we could catch some of the pre-party partying. Ran into a couple of guys in a smokey bar underneath a hotel.

DK and Terri Kidwell! No way!

The morning light let me look at the mountain I was supposed to go down. Surely it must not be that rock strewn sheer cliff with powerlines and trees. It is. The "top" seen in this picture is about 1/2 way down. The easy half.

The Murderhorn

Old-school boys and girls with their old-school boards.

The new school boys.

The finish line, will I live to see it again?

DK and Bob Klein!

Ichiro...Ichib...Ishira...Ishi! From Japan.

If one must die, which we all must, at least leave a convincing corpse.

After a few chairlifts up, I was scared out of my mind. The regular pistes had a tiny layer of snow covering solid ice. A no-go with a regular board and tons of confidence. By the time I reached the top and began to hike the other the 1/2km past the "do not go past" sign I had completely lost it. I summited the ridge and looked down on the drop in and felt lead replace my blood.

"If you go past this sign you will die a horrible death."

Tiina at the summit.

Ready

Set

I have to go down THIS?!?

After the old schoolers and the girls went, it was turn for my group. It was the most radical drop-in I have ever seen. The sort of thing I would never look at as a place to go down on a snowboard, or skis, or really even with ice-climbing gear. I buckled in and went for it--no choice now. I'm not going to describe here what happened in detail since I can't really nor do I wish to expose the reader to the depths of sorrow and belittlement I sank or to the extended swearing vocabulary that was used over the next 45 minutes. I will say, though, that it was as gnarly or more than anything I have ever seen on a vid or in a mag. I'd like to tell you that I handled it like a champ or that I braved my way through it, but the sad truth is that I was paralyzed with fear and the only thing that kept me going down was gravity. There were a few times where I said, "Screw it, I'm waiting on a helicopter." More than once I had to psyche myself out of the fetal position.

To say I finished last isn't really accurate because the camera crew also past me on the way down. So did the medical staff, which added to the terror--I might have needed them. But I lived, and spent the rest of the day somewhere in between exhausted and dead.

Most Neon Award w/ Mike Chantry

DK onstage with Kivi Meyer

The day ended with a cheeseburger, live music, and awards. I can't really remember it all that well due to the PTS, but the pictures indicate that it was pretty cool.

With the race behind me, it was time to enjoy the sport again. We headed to another resort in the region and had a great day on the mountain. It was warm again, and the sense of dread was mostly gone.

This was the last day of the 2008/2009 season and I treated it as such. I pushed my boarding to another level, and as a result was humbled. The X-rays showed no broken bones, but I'm still limping after three weeks. I guess it's just the toll you pay on the road of being extreme. Put that on a bag of Doritos.