After an hour, the bus finally comes to a stop at my favorite mountain: Butterchurn. It’s the smallest part of Keyspen Resorts, but they’re regularly set up for the X Games, so I can always get in practice time on whatever I’m working on. Most boarders pick a specialty by now between big air, half-pipe, parallel giant slalom, slopestyle, and snowboard cross. But I just can’t. For me, it’s not about walking around with a trophy that says I am number one. I just love the sport—all of it. If the money dried up tomorrow and I never finished in the top 10, I just wouldn’t care that much. I’d still hit the slopes every day I could. Most of my teammates wouldn’t understand that; it’s all about their being number one. If they knew they couldn’t win, they would quit the sport. That reminds me of one of my favorite stories about Peace.
Remember I said that I was the second-best boarder in the state? That’s true because Peace is the best, and it’s not even close. Thing is, nobody knows it because she never enters competitive events. I will never forget the day they all found out about her because it was the same day I did my slalom a second behind Bozzetto. All of the pros had me up in the air, celebrating. The locals were cheering along with them. They thought it was cute that a little kid got lucky and did almost as well as they did one time. My rivals were cheering too, because they felt they would beat me eventually, so no big deal celebrating this fluke.
The entire happy crowd carried me along right in front of the big air setup. Then they paused, and everyone seemed to get quiet simultaneously. At the top of the hill was a skinny little girl who looked like she was thinking about taking the big jump. Instead of professional gear, she wore jeans, a Mexican poncho, and sunglasses. To our shock, she turned to make a run, with no goggles, no helmet, and golden hair waving free as she bombed down the massive big air jump.
Everyone was transfixed.
It was like knowing you were there a minute before a massive car crash and watching how it happened in real time. But instead of a tragedy, she hit the jump and launched in the air; and with all of us watching, she stuck a backside 1260 off the heels. I know that may not mean anything to you, but at the time she did that, only one person in the entire world had ever done that trick: Sage Kotsenburg, the Olympic gold medalist. Unlike the cheers I received, the crowd stared at her in stunned silence.
Peace slid up alongside me, flipped up her sunglasses, smiled, and said, “That was fun.” Then, she just rode away.
The crowd broke up, silently going in their own direction, deep in thought, assessing their careers and lives. Peace hadn’t done the trick to show off or let us know that she was the best; she did it because it was fun. For a hot minute, I was bummed, realizing that I was not even as good as someone in my own backyard; but then the beauty of her message transformed me, and I’ve been having fun ever since. Incidentally, I win a lot, too; but if I stopped winning, I wouldn’t care, so long as I was having fun.
the graphics on the board are from my main sponsor, Dependables. Yep, the incontinence-briefs people. Apparently, some marketing whiz thought I was an influencer who would make their product seem hip and in if it was on my snowboard. While everyone else I know has sponsorships from fast food, energy drinks, or clothing companies, yours truly is repping diapers.
After an hour, the bus finally comes to a stop at my favorite mountain: Butterchurn. It’s the smallest part of Keyspen Resorts, but they’re regularly set up for the X Games, so I can always get in practice time on whatever I’m working on. Most boarders pick a specialty by now between big air, half-pipe, parallel giant slalom, slopestyle, and snowboard cross. But I just can’t. For me, it’s not about walking around with a trophy that says I am number one. I just love the sport—all of it. If the money dried up tomorrow and I never finished in the top 10, I just wouldn’t care that much. I’d still hit the slopes every day I could. Most of my teammates wouldn’t understand that; it’s all about their being number one. If they knew they couldn’t win, they would quit the sport. That reminds me of one of my favorite stories about Peace.
Remember I said that I was the second-best boarder in the state? That’s true because Peace is the best, and it’s not even close. Thing is, nobody knows it because she never enters competitive events. I will never forget the day they all found out about her because it was the same day I did my slalom a second behind Bozzetto. All of the pros had me up in the air, celebrating. The locals were cheering along with them. They thought it was cute that a little kid got lucky and did almost as well as they did one time. My rivals were cheering too, because they felt they would beat me eventually, so no big deal celebrating this fluke.
The entire happy crowd carried me along right in front of the big air setup. Then they paused, and everyone seemed to get quiet simultaneously. At the top of the hill was a skinny little girl who looked like she was thinking about taking the big jump. Instead of professional gear, she wore jeans, a Mexican poncho, and sunglasses. To our shock, she turned to make a run, with no goggles, no helmet, and golden hair waving free as she bombed down the massive big air jump.
Everyone was transfixed.
It was like knowing you were there a minute before a massive car crash and watching how it happened in real time. But instead of a tragedy, she hit the jump and launched in the air; and with all of us watching, she stuck a backside 1260 off the heels. I know that may not mean anything to you, but at the time she did that, only one person in the entire world had ever done that trick: Sage Kotsenburg, the Olympic gold medalist. Unlike the cheers I received, the crowd stared at her in stunned silence.
Peace slid up alongside me, flipped up her sunglasses, smiled, and said, “That was fun.” Then, she just rode away.
The crowd broke up, silently going in their own direction, deep in thought, assessing their careers and lives. Peace hadn’t done the trick to show off or let us know that she was the best; she did it because it was fun. For a hot minute, I was bummed, realizing that I was not even as good as someone in my own backyard; but then the beauty of her message transformed me, and I’ve been having fun ever since. Incidentally, I win a lot, too; but if I stopped winning, I wouldn’t care, so long as I was having fun.
the graphics on the board are from my main sponsor, Dependables. Yep, the incontinence-briefs people. Apparently, some marketing whiz thought I was an influencer who would make their product seem hip and in if it was on my snowboard. While everyone else I know has sponsorships from fast food, energy drinks, or clothing companies, yours truly is repping diapers.
