Shouldering the pain

When I was playing basketball in high school, there was a strict rule that no team member was allowed on the ski slopes during the season. Apparently, too many athletes had fallen prey to freak injuries while skiing and cost the school state championships. 

I had been involved with basketball since grade school, so I wasn’t inclined to want to ski. Additionally, no one in my family skied so it was never on my radar. 

During my senior year of college, however, a few of my friends convinced me to finally give it a try. They then proceeded to take me to the top of a local mountain where they left me to figure it out on my own. I tumbled down that first run, but by the second, I was functional enough to pull it off. 

I didn’t ski again for several years until my wife coerced me back onto the slopes as a weekend activity. She loved it; I hated it. I begrudgingly did it for the season, but I never felt comfortable on skis. 

Over that next summer, a friend suggested that I try snowboarding. Having been a skateboarder during my teen years, I thought it was a worthy idea. The fact was, I wasn’t interested in skiing again, so if I was going to be with my wife during the winter weekends, I had to find a solution. 

That next year, my friend took me to the mountain and showed me the basics of snowboarding. In one run, I was hooked, and I have been a devout snowboarder ever since.

Over the years, my wife and I have traveled to numerous resorts around the country for winter vacations on the slopes. And when our son was old enough, we put him in ski school so he could come as well. 

I have always approached snowboarding in the same way: I strap on my board, turn on some tunes, find the longest runs, and then gracefully cruise down the mountain. Of course, there have been times when I’ve experimented with different terrain, but I’ve always found moguls and black diamonds to be more trouble than they’re worth.

My goal is to enter into a zen or flow state where I feel totally connected to the mountain, which is why I like to cruise. When everything clicks and the conditions are ripe, I can’t think of any activity I would rather do. 

On one occasion while we were in Aspen, I was foolish enough to take some runs through the Olympic-sized superpipe. Decades earlier, I had ridden in halfpipes on my skateboard so I figured I could handle it. 

First of all, a superpipe is ridiculously big – much bigger than is conveyed through your television. And secondly, they are made of nearly rock-hard ice, which also isn’t translated through the TV. 

My first couple runs were uneventful. I made my way up each side of the pipe in a trivial manner, but I was proud given that I pulled it off. On my third run, however, my board kicked out from underneath me causing me to slam down onto my shoulder. 

The resulting injury lasted nearly 10 months. I could barely lift my left arm for weeks and spent the remaining months wincing in pain whenever I moved my shoulder inappropriately. 

After that event, I vowed to never again risk my physical health doing something meant for kids half my age.

Well, a few weeks ago, my family decided to hit the slopes for an end-of-winter stay in the mountains. Thankfully there was no terrain park so I wouldn’t be tempted. However, there was a boardercross course and after a couple days, I foolishly decided to give it a try. 

A boardercross course is a winding inclined trail with large berms. As soon as I entered, I knew it was a bad idea. The course was glare ice and I was moving too fast. Before I knew it, my board kicked out and I slammed onto the ground, tearing my shoulder and cracking a rib. 

As I laid there staring into the sky, I questioned every level of my intelligence. And I’m still questioning it weeks later given the remaining bruises on my ribcage and my inability to lift my arm over my head. 

There were a lot of bruises highlighted in this week’s feature, “Without Getting Killed or Caught,” a documentary about the life and music of folk artist Guy Clark.

Most people will not know the name Guy Clark, but his influence on the world of popular folk and country music was profound. This film follows his unique journey along with his equally influential wife, Susanna Clark, and the odd dynamics that surrounded their relationship.

If you’re a fan of music documentaries, definitely check this one out. And then do what I did: Go listen to some Guy Clark music and open yourself up to an amazing new catalog of songs.

A persistent “B” for “Without Getting Killed or Caught,” now available to rent on Amazon Prime. 

Got a question or comment for Dom? You can email him at moviediary@att.net.