This is the shorts, and you're listening to the Dirt Back Diaries.

The chair lift.

It is the most unnerving task of snowboarding.

Hands down.

Though it moves in a menturnoned rhythm, the chair seems to accelerate at two precise

points.

First, as you slide out to load.

And second, as it deposits you atop the hill.

Even when I was confidently riding blue squares, descharing by my palm sweat and lip swiss

burr.

Don't fall, don't fall, don't fall, don't fall.

The chair lift though isn't always so ominous.

Snap ski boots into bindings, and I'm rocking down the hill without another thought.

But now, the slippery snow seemed to hinder my attempts to balance on a single plank.

Before the idea of bolting back to the car could set my legs into action, I remembered

that my role for the evening was mentoring.

I asked my partner, Rashan, if he'd ridden the lift before.

Nope, he mumbled.

Hmm, seems like a quick lesson might be helpful.

Slide out, keep the board straight, sit down and hold on.

I set this all with the ease of seasoned instructor.

I had no idea whether it'd actually be able to pull it off myself.

...