When Routine Goes Wrong

Disclaimer: this has nothing to do with photography. This is part of the "...some other random things" portion.

Beautiful blue skies and a nice, cool breeze. Things are warming up. The snow is getting nice and soft. I look at the jump I've been doing all day. I decide I'll keep it simple this run and do what I've been doing. It's a little different now that the snow is getting slushy. This means I'll slow down as I approach the jump. I decide to pin line it and not to speed check. I approach the jump. My speed feels fine. I reach the lip. My take-off feels fine. I make a nice, slow, backside turn. The rotation feels fine. As I reach the end of my spin, I feel fine. I feel more than fine.

I can feel the adrenaline and exhilaration rushing through me. The rush was like the first time you snuck out of your house. The rush was like the first time you played hooky. The rush was like the first time you fell in love.

I loved the rush this jump gave me. No matter how routine this jump might be, I felt the passion that I have for snowboarding. A passion where nothing can stop me from doing what I love.

I loved every moment of this...until I spotted my landing. As I finished my spin and prepared my legs to take the impact of the landing, I realized I still had 10 feet under me to go. I miscalculated my speed, the jump, and the time it would take me to land. My rotation becomes inverted and my nose dips forward. There's nothing I can do. I brace myself for impact.

The nose of my board hits the ground first. Then it whiplashes me and digs my left shoulder into the ground. I feel an instant burning sensation. I pick myself up so I'm not laying down on the blind landing of the jump. As I pick myself up, I felt the all-too-familiar feeling in my left shoulder. A feeling I felt 3 months ago from a motorcycle accident.

I felt my left collarbone crunch. I knew right away that it was broken.

Yeah, you read that right. I broke my collarbone 3 months ago from a motorcycle accident that was ALSO a routine turn. Lost control, flew over the bars, and bam! Broken collarbone, wrist, and thumb. Go ahead, laugh at me, call me stupid, and call me dumb for snowboarding with broken bones. I like to look at it as: nothing can stop me from doing what I love. And to be fair, it was the last weekend for Bear Mountain to be open. I had to get one last hurrah in.

Anyways, here's my x-ray:

2015 has been one heck of a year so far. Seems like I'll be spending the first half of it with a broken collarbone. Fun stuff.

I just thought I'd share this story with you so you can laugh at my misery instead of having to go through with it. Be safe out there people!