BLOGS / HELLO WINTER / COMMUNITY VIGNETTE

welcome to kid pace

words by chris zimmerman | photos by eric pollard & Mark McInnis

“This is an investment for the future,” I repeated to myself as I helped deal with another meltdown over an itch, or being too hot, or having to pee. It’s honestly hard to keep up at this point. But one thing I do know is my daughter’s happiness is key to my wife and I enjoying our time snowboarding.

“It’s alright. Let’s figure it out. Let me take off your helmet. And your mitts. And your jacket. Ok, you got the itch? It went away by itself? Perfect. Let’s get your gear back on.”

My daughter’s introduction to snowboarding started as soon as she could stand. We pulled her around on a board in the house and focused on getting her comfortable in boots, wearing all the layers and walking in the snow. For kids, that can be half the frustration. Might as well start them early. We’ve even practiced beacon training by hiding them under pillows on the couch. I think it helped. Or maybe I’m projecting. It was all in my rush to get her snowboarding so we can participate together as a family.

But I have to remember to check myself. When I first met my wife and she was learning to snowboard, my riding and my expectations also needed to adapt. Then, when my daughter started snowboarding, those expectations had to adapt even further. In some ways it’s easier to teach an adult to snowboard. They can scratch their own itches, for starters. They also process directions differently, get ready quicker and you generally don’t have to carry them to the chairlift.

On the other hand, they aren’t made of rubber like a 4-year-old and are typically more fearful. From the moment we first got our daughter on snow, I had to slow myself down. Way down. We were now moving at kid-pace. No more powder panic, no more hot laps and no more first chairs. It was time to accept this new reality and get on board with her program if we were going to have fun.

If there is one word to describe my daughter, it’d be strong-willed. At 3 years old she was determined to walk to Mt. Shuksan from the White Salmon Lodge at Mt. Baker, and proceeded to head that direction until I had to bring her back. Sometimes I wonder how long she would have continued. At 4 she was tired of the magic carpet after only three days and asked to go on the chairlift. “Sure,” I said. Maybe she’ll think it’s too much and want to hold off until she’s bigger? Nope. She was hooked. We haven’t been on a magic carpet since.

While it feels like slow progress at times, meltdowns are fewer and farther between, her riding speed has increased and her confidence continues to grow with each run. This confidence earns her constant hoots and hollers from the chairlift as she works her way through moguly black diamond runs. It earns her “power pills”—what we call candy—on the chair between runs. It also led to her wanting to take the chair by herself for the first time at age 6.

I was never worried about her riding the chair, but as a short person, getting on isn’t the easiest. Luckily, this beginner chair was really low. But the other thing I constantly debate with myself over, is that I always picked her up and rode off the chair with her. Or more recently, I pick her up and set her down as we ride off the chair together. She’s never had to go through the phase of falling every single time you get off the chair. I made it easy for her. I wish someone would have shown me how to get off the chair when I was learning. Should I have helped her skip this step? Not sure. But we were about to find out as we watched her head up the chair from the base area for her first solo lap.

Maybe it was her time, maybe my wife and I helped get her to this point or maybe riding for a couple days with Austin pushed her to try something new and scary. Whatever the catalyst was, she successfully got off the chair, rode to the bottom and asked to do another lap with the biggest, most beaming, ear-to-ear smile I had ever seen. Then she proceeded to take 10 more laps, well into the evening. As parents we had similar looks on our faces as we cheered her on.

Her next goals are committing to her toeside turn and learning how—and when—to keep up speed. She did tell me she wants to snowboard for her job but not go into the terrain park. Fair enough. At the end of the day, I saw this moment as a turning point for her. I’ve watched her confidence continue to increase as she has now started following my sidehit lines, talking about riding powder and always wanting to ride through the trees. At this rate, it won’t be long until I’m trying to keep up with Esmé, telling her to slow down and asking to stop for a snack break.