Mt. Baker was finally able to open the other day. And for the first time in 15 years, I wasn’t checking the report or website every day waiting to hear those magical words “Mt Baker will be in normal midweek operation starting tomorrow…”

But the fact is, I’m pretty much done snowboarding for now. Oh sure, I’ll get up a few times this season. Hit a few powder dumps, maybe a sunny spring day or two. But that’s about it. No pass this year, no plans with the crew about trading driving, not even any trips down to the snow shop to make sure I’ve got some wax. It’s a strange thing for me. Snowboarding has been a part of my life for so long that it’s hard to realize that I’m not going to have it around that much any more. But the writing has been on the wall for a while now. My knees started to hurt two seasons ago, the “contract” position I took turned into a full-time salaried job last year, Stacey was going to be busy with school but we got pregnant instead, Jack was born, and so on. Even the crew I had ridden with for years has splintered. Tony in Hawaii, Myke in Portland, Per in some crazy frenchie land, Kellen in the deep south. Even Davidson, my riding partner for almost every one of those 15 years is going to be living in Seattle in a month or so. To be fair, Kevin and Smooth are here in B-ham still charging as hard as ever and Saxtor has come on strong in recent seasons. But not me anymore.

I’m a little bummed. Not that I’m unhappy with my life, in fact, I’m as happy as I’ve ever been (which is pretty happy). Even more so if you consider the fact that every day with Jack is something new and interesting. I’ve got a loving wife, a cozy home, a great job, family, health, friends, and so on. But if I think back on all those late nights waxing boards, early mornings in the car driving up to the hill, all the crazy conversations on the chairlift we’ve had, the lung-busting hiking, the scary crashes, squished up lunches pulled from a parka pocket, every trick we learned, every powder turn we laid down, all of it…it makes me sad and happy at the same time these days. Some of the most important friendships I will ever have were forged on creaky chairs up on the hill, some of my greatest triumphs were completed with 159cm of wood and p-tex under my feet, and some of my deepest pains were washed away in a wave of white kicked up by a powder turn.

No, this isn’t the end of my riding. I doubt that will happen until I’m too decrepit to walk. But for now, it’s the end of snowboarding as part of my lifestyle. That’s going into hibernation for a while. You know, just until Jack is old enough to learn to ride. That will be the next great adventure on the snow for me, and I really can’t wait.