Descriptive Snowboarding Essay
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Descriptive Essay 10-14-11
The memories of my last Snowboarding trip to Vail with my friends Hunter and Jason are some of my fondest.
I cant help but smile when I remember that day as clearly as if it were happenening now. Preparing our equipment was the equivalent of trying to get someone with ADD to focus. The weather was at times difficult to overcome. But the time we spent on the slopes made it all worth it.
We had arrived in Vail at 8pm that December. Immediately we unloaded Hunters yellow Nissan X terra, and headed towards our condo. Once inside each of us picked out a room, and went to get good nights sleep. Since I was the first person up in the morning it was my job to make coffee. As the smell traveled through the condo everyone began to awake. Hunter looked like a zombie as he drifted towards the couch. By the time I poured my first cup of coffee, the TV was blaring. Just as I sat down the stunning image of snow drifted across the screen. It was the weather channel forcast for the day. Both of us began to listen attentively as the meteorologist described the wet, windy, and snowy day that was to come I could not help but cringe. Conditions like that make for a rough day on the slopes. Once I snapped back out of my own head, Jason was laughing. “Whats so funny” I replied. “The look of frustration on your face, just relax, today will be great!” Hunter blurted out. He was right, maybe not my idea of ideal conditions but I could still have fun. Before I could open my mouth to say anything Jason was sifting through the pile of gear on the floor.
Looking at the pile of equipment all strewn about reminded me of the aftermath of a hurricane. Boots, Jackets, gloves, goggles, and snowpants completely scattered. Knowing that my blue and black checkered Vans boots would stick out, I backed up to scan the entire floor. Sure enough they were easy to spot. Hunter then stated his dislike for my boots and I mocked a salesperson by saying foot comfort is every riders top gear priority, since aching feet are tough to ignore on a mountain. Each one of us let out a hearty burst of laughter. Once the laughter had ended I started trying to sift through some gloves. Unfortunately they were all the same color of black, not to mention the same brand. After I found my gloves and stood up, Jason grabbed me so that Id notice he had forced himself into my size 30 blue Burton ski pants. “Do you think I could pull this off” he asked. “If you want to look like Steve ir ell than sure” I answered. Hunter then reminded us that the slopes open shortly. Struggling to locate my goggles I remembered they were in my coat pocket. Since the only thing left on the floor happened to be my white and blue jacket, I swooped it up and was ready to roll. Both Jason and Hunter were on the way out the