Every time I tried to move I was clobbered and knocked down. But I was determined to learn this new sport. Bruises or not, I was going to be a snowboarder. And I had developed a theory on what was required to get it done. At Silver Creek , Colorado, I found them all.
Silver Creek is small by Colorado standards.
Just thirty, mostly tame runs and a one thousand-foot vertical drop. Of course, I hadn't traveled to Colorado just to ski Silver Creek. But Silver Creek, just twenty minutes down the road, gave me a chance to ditch the three adolescents, who were reducing my knees to nubs in the trees and bumps, and test my Einsteinian theory of how a middle-aged, expert skier learns to snowboard. As I said, I found all the elements at Silver Creek. It held little terrain that tempted my ski urges.