Nagano… A place world famous for skiing and snowboarding and I managed to fall down most of it. Ok, so maybe it was only one run, but I now know that run in detail. I should, seeing as I spent a lot of time sliding down it on my face and ass.
Actually, although I came away from my three day trip bearing some phenomenal injuries, it was one of the best trips I have ever had.
For three days my friend Jamie and I went up and down a mountain on a ski lift offering us some of the most amazing views, although our first day saw us mainly sitting at the bottom of a gentle incline wondering just how the hell we were supposed to stay standing up, while dreading the walk back to the top of our little slope just so we could tumble down it again.
By the end of day one we were sorer than we have ever been in our lives and Jamie was muttering something about having torn his sphincter!
Day two was significantly better. My friend Yusuke (who organized the whole thing for us) took us to the top of the run and spent some time teaching is just how NOT to fall over. This doesn’t mean we didn’t fall over at all, but we fell over a hell of a lot less. However I did manage to take one spectacular fall that left me wondering whether I’d cracked a rib or two. It’s now three weeks later and I’m still tender down one side! Seven hours and some amazing weather later Jamie and I found we could actually “snowboard” and I discovered I’d managed to get sunburned pretty much all over my face except for where my goggles had been. My chin has never been so red in all my life!
On our last day we woke up to a blanket of fog that didn’t lift all day. However, despite the multitude of aches and pains we now bore (including my possibly cracked ribs) we were determined to spend our last day on the run. By this stage we considered ourselves fully fledged snowboarders and had even resorted to saying things like “gnarly dude”. The run however was unforgiving. It had been packed down the night before and, as the snow never saw the sun, it was like boarding on ice. Each tumble was like falling on solid concrete. It was so bad that we nearly packed it in and went home, but sheer bloody mindedness saw us persevere.
There is nothing quite as frightening as sliding down a wall of ice at unknown speeds while not being able to see anything. At some stages the fog became so thick it was almost impossible to differentiate between the snow and the fog at all. Many times Jamie and I would begin at the top of one run only to find ourselves at the bottom of a completely different one.
The end of the trip saw us heading home exhilarated but completely knackered. That didn’t stop us from heading to the pub however. It’s amazing how a few rum and cokes can make you forget about cracked ribs and incredible sunburn.
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