12. Snow (OW)
Ottawa, Canada
Dear Jamie,
I’ve emerged from a month of digging myself out of the snow. Don’t worry, I wasn’t buried the whole month, but I might as well have been when you sum up all the times my face was planted in the ground. Put more plainly, I spent February in Banff, taking as much time as I could in between other life sundries to hit the slopes.
It’s been about 8 years since we took snowboarding lessons together, and though I’m falling no less than before, I do think I’ve improved a bit since then. This trip’s overall aesthetic was drastically different from our ski trips back in the day. We did not stuff twenty people in an Airbnb meant for eight, nor postgame après ski playing ridiculous drinking games like Fizz Buzz. Taylor Swift was just as important to the driving soundtrack as back then however.
Those trips were a big part of how our friendship first grew. During the long drives to Tahoe, you always had the best thought provoking questions and riddles to get people to open up. Whenever our group was too big for one car, I made sure you were a passenger in mine.
One weekend while in Banff this time, Ivy and I drove out to Revelstoke, British Columbia. We’d heard the powder is so thick, it feels like you’re riding through clouds. We met up with some of Ivy’s friends on the hills and I quickly got acquainted with the pillowy softness of the snow as I repeatedly crashed into it. Feeling defeated, I told Ivy to go with her friends and spent the rest of the day alone.
From then on, I took it at my own pace, slowly making my way down the mountain. As I cruised along, I found my mind ruminating about the nature of snow.
Speeding down a run can be daunting, but it’s easier when there’s trails to follow, carved in the snow by those that came before us. And when the powder is a soft cushion that we can painlessly fall back on, it’s much easier to pick ourselves up and try again. There’s probably a life lesson in there somewhere.
The snow supports us, yet it can also obscure obstacles like rocks and trees. It’s wonderful to be in, but only because we have the luxury to withdraw from it when we choose. The snow giveth and the snow taketh.
Ice is an interesting contrast to snow. They’re both water that’s below freezing temperature, yet we characterize them completely differently. A snow cannon is a wonderful machine, creating artificial goodness to play with. On the other hand, an ice cannon would be a terrifying death contraption. Similarly, icy is not a description one generally desires.
Ice on the ground is painful to fall on, and skidding on it can lead to accidents. Yet ice can also heal us — placing it next to a wound can reduce the blood flow and thus reduce inflammation. Putting a transplanted organ on ice helps keep it usable for longer.
As my board sailed from one trail to another, so too did my thoughts. I didn’t form any cohesive narratives in the process, but I did find myself more appreciative of my surroundings as each small reflection passed by. Funny how these moments can make the invisible that was there all along become more visible.
In the process, I’d reached the bottom of the mountain without even noticing. That day started out rough but actually turned out to be quite meditative. I was happy with how it went, though I was equally happy to return to the warmth of our hotel. All in all, I’m excited for the next ski season and hoping we can learn and fall together again!
Your cold but hopefully not icy friend,
Owen
