Chrisonomicon

Thursday, December 28, 2000

I took the day off work to join two friends on a snowboarding trip to A Basin. The base was a scant 32 inches and, although we had a few decent rides on what little powder there was, they decided that it wasn't enough and eyed a roped off area marked "Closed" in large, red letters.

I was a good boy, however, and skirted the roped area through some steep moguls to meet them at the bottom. By the time I reached the base, a red-vested patrolman was waiting for them as well. I sat a good 500 feet from them while he lectured them on avalanche safety and possible fines along with a night in jail. Not good. Two clips of his wirecutters and their day-passes were revoked.

On our way home, random thoughts went through my head. What if they had caused an avalanche? It wasn't very crowded, but imagine suddenly being pummeled and buried alive, slowly suffocating under the blinding mass. No warning. And, suddenly, the fragility of life was a weight too much to bear.

I looked around for ways to escape the car, should our transportation suddenly become a tumbling, snow-bound death-trap, hurtling over the edge of the mountain highway. Squeezing my fists, I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Why worry about such unlikely tragedies? It occurred to me that I spend so much time worrying about what might happen that I never enjoy the moment, and so I leaned my head against the window and let myself fall asleep. An enjoyable nap. And the bus stayed squarely on the road.