For my birthday last year, Jason gave me a weekend on the slopes via a cabin rental close to the lifts at Brighton Resort. We had to make the cabin reservation six months in advance and just hope that snow would be there. When our allotted time arrived, fresh powder there was not. With cloudless skies and temperatures in the 30s, Jason and I wasted no energy lamenting that lack of new precipitate but got right to enjoying the surplus of sunshine. The weekend did crush others’ expectations though. Below is the story about how high hopes can sometimes lead to falling on your face unexpectedly and repeatedly.

Before we get into this trip’s elations and disgruntlements though, let me quickly address the virus in the room… aah, COVID. That pointy adversary continues to heighten vacation stress, and it did so on this occasion. I felt like I was getting a sore throat just as we were traveling up the canyon. Luckily, it was only another case of CRVIP (COVID-Related Vacation-Induced Panic). It’s a bizarre world where relief follows when an issue turns out to just be mental illness.

As I did not have COVID, and nothing else could impede our rush to the slopes, we flocked unblocked. Jason and I spent the first day boarding by ourselves. My boarding post will soon give you more than enough details on the particulars of those refreshing mountain loops.

That evening, some of my sister’s family joined us. Of the three kids, two would be attempting snowboarding for the first time the following day. They excitedly asked questions about carving that clearly denoted they had unrealistic expectations on how their riding was going to go. I tried to change those expectations to predominantly involve pain, falling, flailing, embarrassment, tipping, and crashing. Yet, they remained unswayed, continuing to envision shredding like Shaun White after a two-hour lesson.

Not surprisingly, things did not proceed as Whitish as they anticipated the next day, and their enthusiasm waned. Out of the two new boarders, the youngest was willing to entertain the idea of boarding again after her first experience. However, the oldest was overwhelmingly frustrated by his difficulties and lack of progress. He was also cold and soggy. The gloves we loaned him became threadbare and even spawned a hole during the course of the day. How? They’d only been worn a few times. Whatever the cause, leaky gloves aren’t classically considered morale boosters. After his span on the slopes, he was noncommittal about his readiness to try boarding a second time.

That evening, everyone was fairly lethargic, and some were downright demoralized, but we managed to muster the energy to go out for pizza, get through a game of Mysterium, hold a ping pong tournament, and undertake some spontaneous storytelling. Not too shabby a turnaround for a group that had only just given up its aspirations of buttering the slopes like instant Rice.

Although fresh pow was absent from our slope-side weekend, Jason and I altered our hopes to meet reality without significant angst. Some of the others in our party were more reluctant to let go of their overestimations of the outing and their abilities. Still, even those who didn’t achieve powder prowess reached great heights… which they fell from of course. On a closing note, I’m happy to report that the reluctant noob didn’t give up on snowboarding after this excursion and even purchased a season pass for next season.