THE last snowboarder I met was a
tanned, blue-eyed Adonis. His
blonde curls adorably framed his
wide, beaming smile. It didn't
matter that he bored me to paralysis,
I was content to admire the view.
Like a fine Turner painting, it seemed his
only purpose in life was to stand against a
wall and look pretty. I recall dangling my
empty wineglass while watching his lips
move as he happily burbled away about his
snowboarding adventures.
So this was where all the eye-candy was
being hidden - on the world's snowy slopes.
If I were a woman of means, a jaunt to the
Alps to catch the sporting specimens in
their own habitat would be high on the agenda.
But, looking at my budget, I had only two
options: to pose as a mannequin in a skiequipment
store and pounce on unsuspecting
prey, or take snowboarding lessons.
Heavy-handed security guards scuppered
plans for the former so really that left only
one course of action: to be perched precariously
atop an indoor slope with my feet
strapped to a board.
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I emerged at Calshot Activity Centre kitted
up and ready to glide effortlessly
through imaginary pine trees.
The first of three evening sessions began
slowly practising within the safe confines of
sliding in a line - "straight running" - controlling
speed and perfecting balance.
Somewhere along the line, reference was
made to "the toilet position", but I preferred
to imagine myself in a chair - far more ladylike.
Once we clambered up the mound of
strange, off-white bristle, nerves took hold.
It was a long way down and the only escape
appeared to be a long, humiliating fall to
freedom.
Fortunately, instructor Charlotte Nicholls
had already taught us how to take a tumble
in a variety of bizarre ways, so in a split second
we could make an educated decision
and avoid injury.
Patiently, she gently hand-led us downhill
uttering words of advice on how we should
be bending our knees and tilting to control
speed.
A fellow beginner reassured me that
being small meant I had a low centre of
gravity and would have no problem.
After a few attempts, the truth
revealed itself. I was terrible. My helpful
classmate was either grossly misinformed
or placating me the way teachers
do with sports day losers.
"Never mind. You tried your best. It's
the taking part that counts. At least
you didn't come last."
Others did suspiciously well and
picked up technique and control fairly
quickly while I fell on face. Twice.
Falling in itself doesn't hurt but picking
yourself up sheepishly and
shuffling off the slope can sting a little.
In many ways, it is best to fall as soon
as possible, removing the fear of the
unknown and empowering a more daring
approach.
If the worst that can happen is
crashing to the ground with a thud and
muffled expletives, it can't be that bad.
All in all, the lesson was a great way
to learn the basics - not to mention a
fun evening meeting young
adventurers.
If anything, I feel I have offered some
comfort to my fellow learners who can
return home safe in the knowledge that
at least they were not the worst.
Prices start from £69 for a course of
three beginners' lessons.
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