It’s winter time, the snow is white and thick, and the air is cold. You’re bundled in your snow gear and ready to face the mountain, one slope at a time. You ride up to the top, strap yourself into your board and prepare yourself to go down. Your heart pounds with excitement. You glide through the wind like a knife. Racing around the trees and corners, you’re catching more and more speed as you go. It’s just you, your board, the mountain and the free feeling that lies inside.
This isn’t your average sport. Snowboarding is a board resembling a small surfboard and equipped with bindings, used for descending snow-covered slopes on one's feet but without ski poles.
Snowboarding was created in the 1960’s by Sherman Poppen. Poppen fixed two skies together in order for his daughter to “surf” down a snowy mountain. The invention soon became know as a “snurfer” and went into production the following year. Years later the sport got its name “Snowboarding” when Mike Olson built an actual snowboard in his high school woodshop. Burton and Winterstick (big snowboarding companies) introduced today’s model of the snowboard in 1980. Today’s snowboard is made from many different layers of material. The first layer is polyethylene (or plastic) which makes for a slippery bottom. That layer also has a steel edge so you are able to grind into the snow. The second layer is fiberglass which makes the board hard and adds strength. Third is the core of the board which is made from wood or foam, then another layer of fiberglass. To top it off you have what is called the “top sheet”. It’s a protective layer of thin plastic. One by one each layer is hand placed into a big iron with the shape of a snowboard inside, and then the layers are molded and heated together to make a snowboard.
In the mid-eighties snowboarding hit a craze sweeping through ski resorts across the US. In the year 2000, snowboarding became the fastest-growing sport in the US increasing by 51.2 percent from the following year making a total of just over 7.2 million snowboarders. (Even though snowboarding took off as a sport, there are still four ski resorts in the US that don’t allow it because it’s not a “sport”). Throughout the 80’s and 90’s snowboarding competitions arose. In 1998, snowboarding debuted in the Olympics. According to freethesnow.com, snowboarders make up 25% of all winter sport participants and they say the numbers are growing.
Snowboarding can be a family sport and is for all ages. Gabe Wasil, an avid snowboarder, started snowboarding when he was 12 years old. He is now 19 and snowboards like he has been doing it his whole life. “I love snowboarding because you’re strapped onto nothing but a board and you’re going down a mountain covered in snow. It’s just you, the board, and the mountain and you can do whatever you want.” Wasil states. “Not only that, but its good exercise for your body and gets you out and about.” I am one of many people Gabe has taught how to snowboard. This last winter season was my very first time and I can already catch air (actually get the board off the ground) and land jumps. (I did land wrong and crack my tail bone, but it was at the end of the season, so luckily I wasn’t missing anything.) “For only going six times in her life, Teran is pretty good. I would say she has a natural talent for the sport,” Wasil says.
Despite all of the fun things about snowboarding it does have its downfalls. Most ski physicians agree that snowboarding carries a slightly higher risk of injury than alpine skiing with around three-five injuries per thousand boarder days (as compared to two- four per thousand days for skier injuries). Injured snowboarders are twice as likely (28% vs 14%) to sustain a fracture compared to skiers. Most of these involve the wrist (Langran). Along with injuries the price for snowboarding is not cheap. Not only do you have to have a board that runs in the $200 range, but you have to have bindings (what keeps your feet on the board), special boots, a ski pass to get on the mountains (day passes usually run $35.00), and of course clothing you to stay dry and warm. Also, if buying boards and boots are not an option, there is always renting. Renting boards usually came in packages, board, boots and bindings. This all goes for $25.00 at most ski resorts. Some people find this easier then buying and carrying your gear around.
Despite the money, the gear, and the slight risk of injuries, snowboarding is a lot of fun, and I highly recommend this sport to anyone who is athletic and up for a challenge. Once you go one time, you will be hooked. I know I am.
(Written Spring 2004)
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Taking out the 'Trash'
Does taking out the trash mean you’re an independent person? Does taking out the trash have meaning behind it? Or is it just another household chore that no one wants to do? All these questions are questions I would never think about while taking out the trash, a chore that I never enjoyed doing. But what are the answers to those questions? Better yet, what are the meanings behind those answers?
I have never liked taking out the trash, even though my trash taking out days have not been very long. I was kind of a spoiled kid, never had chores growing up, my mom was the trash handler. My first apartment was located right next to the giant dumpsters that were set-aside for all the apartments to throw their trash. Taking out the trash was not a big deal for me, walking in and out my front door I would take my trash with me. My apartment was always trash free, along with my life. I loved my first apartment, my life was good and I was looking forward to the next 4 years of college.
When I moved to my next apartment, the trek to the ‘public trash receptacles’ was a bit farther and made taking out the trash more of a chore that I actually had to go out of my way to accomplish. Much like my life at this point, my trash piled, making the chore more of a hassle when I actually did complete it. My second apartment was much more hectic then the first. My mom moved to Alaska leaving me to do everything on my own. My entire life has been my mom and I. Any time I needed something I could pick up a phone and she would be on the other end. With her in Alaska, things were much different, causing my life to “pile”. School got harder, friends came and gone, and my boyfriend of 3 years decided that he wanted to date other people. My trash was the least of my worries.
My third and current apartment is the most interesting place I have ever lived in. My roommate and I have known each other since elementary school and have always had a good and random time together, much like our trash situation. We have devoted Sundays to “deep clean day”. Every Sunday we split the house in half and clean as much as we can, ending with numerous bags of trash. We fill each bag to the rim and tie it off, leaving no room to grip it. When taking the trash out, we each carry as much as we can, in effort to only make one trip. Going out the door is an adventure in itself. While our hands are full and we are awkwardly trying to squeeze through the door, our cat and dog are trying to escape to freedom, as if we keep them inside in a tight, lightless box all day. After we have fought off the animals, and got everything through the doorway, we have to figure out how to lock the door. Our lack of a doorknob makes leaving the door unlocked a difficult situation for our escaping creatures and us. The next adventure is getting everything down the stairs. Our stairs do not have very good lighting and usually contains a countless number of bums down at the bottom, smoking. The lack of light always makes you wonder if you are even going to make it down the stairs in one piece, and if not, you always wonder if your trash is going to stay in tacked as you fall, making your situation less work. Once you make it to the bottom, you always have to squeeze around the bums trying not to disturb their smoking session. After the bums you have to journey through a parking lot containing fat containers from the nearby pizzeria, hoping to either A) not stepping in it, and B) not gagging from the horrible smell that burns the back of your throat when you breath. After dumping all the trash into the giant dumpsters behind American Dream Pizza, you feel as though you have just won a marathon. Needless to say, I love the current place I live, and my roommate and I are always finding new ways to entertain us and have fun.
So, to me taking out the trash is not just a chore no body want to partake in, it is more of a representation of my life and what is going on around me at the current time.
I have never liked taking out the trash, even though my trash taking out days have not been very long. I was kind of a spoiled kid, never had chores growing up, my mom was the trash handler. My first apartment was located right next to the giant dumpsters that were set-aside for all the apartments to throw their trash. Taking out the trash was not a big deal for me, walking in and out my front door I would take my trash with me. My apartment was always trash free, along with my life. I loved my first apartment, my life was good and I was looking forward to the next 4 years of college.
When I moved to my next apartment, the trek to the ‘public trash receptacles’ was a bit farther and made taking out the trash more of a chore that I actually had to go out of my way to accomplish. Much like my life at this point, my trash piled, making the chore more of a hassle when I actually did complete it. My second apartment was much more hectic then the first. My mom moved to Alaska leaving me to do everything on my own. My entire life has been my mom and I. Any time I needed something I could pick up a phone and she would be on the other end. With her in Alaska, things were much different, causing my life to “pile”. School got harder, friends came and gone, and my boyfriend of 3 years decided that he wanted to date other people. My trash was the least of my worries.
My third and current apartment is the most interesting place I have ever lived in. My roommate and I have known each other since elementary school and have always had a good and random time together, much like our trash situation. We have devoted Sundays to “deep clean day”. Every Sunday we split the house in half and clean as much as we can, ending with numerous bags of trash. We fill each bag to the rim and tie it off, leaving no room to grip it. When taking the trash out, we each carry as much as we can, in effort to only make one trip. Going out the door is an adventure in itself. While our hands are full and we are awkwardly trying to squeeze through the door, our cat and dog are trying to escape to freedom, as if we keep them inside in a tight, lightless box all day. After we have fought off the animals, and got everything through the doorway, we have to figure out how to lock the door. Our lack of a doorknob makes leaving the door unlocked a difficult situation for our escaping creatures and us. The next adventure is getting everything down the stairs. Our stairs do not have very good lighting and usually contains a countless number of bums down at the bottom, smoking. The lack of light always makes you wonder if you are even going to make it down the stairs in one piece, and if not, you always wonder if your trash is going to stay in tacked as you fall, making your situation less work. Once you make it to the bottom, you always have to squeeze around the bums trying not to disturb their smoking session. After the bums you have to journey through a parking lot containing fat containers from the nearby pizzeria, hoping to either A) not stepping in it, and B) not gagging from the horrible smell that burns the back of your throat when you breath. After dumping all the trash into the giant dumpsters behind American Dream Pizza, you feel as though you have just won a marathon. Needless to say, I love the current place I live, and my roommate and I are always finding new ways to entertain us and have fun.
So, to me taking out the trash is not just a chore no body want to partake in, it is more of a representation of my life and what is going on around me at the current time.
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