largely a reviled group. Knuckle-draggers, we called them. We had little but disdain for their tattered, stony-eyed
ranks, and there were always notions about that they wrecked the snow, that the shape of their boards, and the way they
turned, made mole-hills out of moguls. And they smelled.
pro-skier forces arrayed against snowboarders began a traitorous trend of moving to the other camp. Skiers who
proclaimed you could have their skies when you pried them from their cold, dead mittens, would suddenly find themselves
whooping with glee as they cut lovely arcing turns in the virgin freshie. I should know. I am one of them. I became a
snowboard convert relatively recently, and I have to say I am glad I made the move. I did not, mind you, give up
skiing. I still have my Rossignol boards and do both sports probably half and half. I know there are those out there
who still object to snowboarding, snowboarders, and the knuckle-dragger sub-culture, but they tend to be of the older,
Puritan ilk that no one has much use for anyway.
something I wanted to get off my back.