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With the helmet, goggles, and ski mask the man was wearing, I couldn’t make out any expressions on his face, but I knew he was curious, because he tipped his head to one side and repeated, “Bruised ego?”
Nodding, I explained, “Apparently, taking a handful of snowboarding lessons when you’re ten years old does not equate to being able to snowboard nearly twenty years later.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Yeah, I get nervous when I start going too fast, and I wound up scrubbing my speed a bit, but I didn’t realize how flat it was here. I came to a complete stop and was struggling to get moving again. I’m really sorry about nearly causing an accident.”
The man shook his head, as though dismissing the thought. “It’s okay. Honestly.”
I was grateful for his graciousness. He hadn’t been wrong about me stopping in the middle of the trail, and it was possible if anyone else had come around that corner who didn’t have his reaction and reflexes, I might have been in a whole new world of hurt.
“Well, thank you for not crashing into me.”
“It’s not a problem at all.”
I expected the man to take off, but when he didn’t, I asked, “Is everything okay?”
He shrugged. “I’d be happy to show you what to do to get yourself going again. Do you want some help?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. I don’t want to interrupt your time.”
Shaking his head again, he said, “Nonsense. It’s not a big deal at all. Plus, I don’t think I could actually ride away, knowing you were stuck here, only to come back down this way and find you were knocked off the trail and into the woods. I’d be happy to help you.”
“Really?”
“Sure.”
What did I have to lose? Other than completely unstrapping myself from my board and walking, I didn’t have the slightest clue what to do. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Great. So, you’ve got two reasonable options in this particular scenario,” he started. “You can either unstrap your back foot and push yourself along, almost like you’re riding on a skateboard. You’ll just want to push yourself to the point where the slope on the trail changes. Or, if you’d rather stay strapped in, you can attempt to walk.”
“Walk?”
“On the board, of course,” he clarified. “It’s a bit awkward, definitely nothing close to regular walking. You have to rely on the strength in your legs, the mobility in your hips, and the trust you have in yourself to land on the base of the board.”
I was growing more and more concerned. “What happens if I don’t have that?”
“You’ll likely face plant in the snow.”
And I thought it was bad to be stopped in the middle of the trail. If I fell on my face in front of this guy, I’d be mortified. “Um, are you able to do that?”
He nodded. “Like this.”
The next thing I knew, this kind man was practically jumping around on his board to move himself forward. He wound up stopping at some point, turning around, and making his way back to me.
I shook my head. “Nope. I’m unstrapping my foot and pushing this thing like a skateboard, because there’s no way I’m going to be able to do what you just did without making a fool of myself.”
The man let out a laugh as he bent down and unstrapped his foot from his back binding. “Okay.”
I did the same.
“Ready?” he asked.
I wasn’t, but I didn’t really have much of a choice, so I gave him a nod.
“Follow me.”
Without wasting another minute, he turned his body toward the front of the trail and started pushing himself forward. I watched as he did it, committing the movement to memory in hopes I’d see it and just be able to do it. After he’d gotten about fifteen feet in front of me, he stopped himself, turned to look back, and urged, “Come on.”
