Snowboarding
I love winter. I love snowboarding. Your first carving turns of the season. Going to the mountains, I think about what I would like to accomplish today. Do I want to ride the trails or the terrain park. Maybe I want to ride powder.
Looking down upon huge jumps waiting for your turn to drop. Speeding toward it wind whipping your face. You cant hear anything over the slapping of the air. Weightless flying, nothing else matters. Nothing around you but the snowboard on your feet. Looking down at the ants of people on the ground, staring up at you with utter amazement. Looking down at the landing, seeing where I think I will land. Tail touches first. Rolling over to the nose, bending down, taking the impact. Standing up, ride away. Ride down to your friends, laughing, knowing you just flew over 30 feet, easily. All the fun of snowboarding.


Dude
Did you write this before or after you broke your wrist?
Nice Job PJ good writing and
Nice Job PJ
good writing and very well explained
~*Hannah*~
good job
good job!!
i am too scared to go off jumps hahah
jordan**
UVM Mentor Comment
Hey Patrick,
I really like your piece on snowboarding. I'm not a snowboarder myself, but through your words I really got a taste of the experience. I especially enjoyed the middle section, starting with the first "Looking down..." and ending with "...easily." The short sentence fragments really capture each moment of going off the jump, extending and really reveling in what is actually a very short period of time.
While your title certainly gave me an idea of what the piece is about, I think the poem deserves a more exhilarating title...though, again, not being a snowboarder myself, maybe I'm wrong. Also, if I were you, I'd maybe try to cut out the first two sentences, since your description of the experience of snowboarding clearly indicates your love for it. The last sentence is nagging at me also...is there a way to end the piece without breaking the story?
Great job!
Suzanne