Maybe we all really are just victims of society.
According to the U.S. Census Bureau’s recently released “Statistical Abstract of the United States: 2007,” most freshmen enrolled in college in 1970 (79 percent) had an important personal objective of “developing a meaningful philosophy of life.” By 2005, 75 percent of the incoming class said their primary objective was “being very well off financially.”
Aside from a little aberration known as “the ’80s,” exactly what happened in between that truth-seeking era and the current age of asset-oriented attitudes is hard to pinpoint. But as a skier and snowboarder throughout that time span, I’ve witnessed the idealistic depreciation trickle down to the pastimes I’m most passionate about.
Sure, there has almost always been an elitist element attracted to the ski slopes, largely perpetuated by the industry itself. Lost in the glamour of Aspen, Vail and Telluride is the reality that skiing was originally a sport that took place at the end of dirt roads by mountain folks, not movie stars. Colorado’s fabled 10th Mountain Division wasn’t in it for the image, much less the money.
Obviously, times have changed, and the attitudes of us victims right along with them. With lift ticket prices approaching Benjamin Franklin stature, the “time is money” philosophy of skiing has taken root as riders caught up in the resort rat race find themselves forced to calculate the cost of every lift ride they receive for close to $100 a day.
Untracked snow is coveted to the point that lives are lost even within resort boundaries, as scofflaw skiers and snowboarders with their eyes on the prize disregard patrol closures and the fickle whims of Mother Nature for the fleeting thrills of fresh tracks in potential avalanche paths. Sponsorship deals or mere barroom bragging rights obscure the essence of the sport, leaving a generation of riders so caught up in the trappings of cool it no longer understands the connection to the soul.
But I’m not turning my back on skiing. I’m turning to the “Surfer’s Code.”
It’s almost ironic that surfing – the activity most notorious for attitudes and infighting – should provide inspiration and life lessons for our landlocked sport. But I can’t help but see the parallels in the book recently written by enlightened South African surfer Shaun Tomson.
“Surfer’s Code” (Gibbs Smith, 2006) offers a set of principles designed to realign the burgeoning wave-riding world that former pro surfer Tomson saw rapidly disconnecting from the roots of his sport and deliver a message of “peaceful coexistence with other people and nature.” Lessons like “all surfers are joined by one ocean” and “there will always be another wave” have obvious life applications extending far beyond the ski world’s comparable code advising us to “always use devices to prevent runaway equipment.”
Not to take anything away from Your Responsibility Code, but even among the handful of skiers and snowboarders who take time to memorize it, it’s difficult to parlay “you must have the knowledge and ability to load and unload the lift safely” into any sort of meaningful connection with the mountains. After some simple translation, however, the 12 principles of Surfer’s Code fit the bill admirably.
To my knowledge, there is no word in the skiing or snowboarding lexicon for “Aloha,” the Hawaiian salutation that Tomson will tell you means “sharing.” “On your left!” is typically about as close as it comes, quickly deteriorating to, “Sorry, no friends on a powder day.”
But like the ocean, the mountains are there to be shared, just like the lessons they provide. Not lessons about how to ski better, but about life from skiing. By opening our eyes, looking beyond the image and absorbing the fundamental, even philosophical, truths it offers, we’ll all be richer in the end.
Tomson’s Surfer’s Code
I WILL …
* Never turn my back on the ocean.
* Always paddle back out.
* Take the drop with commitment.
* Know that there will always be another wave.
* Realize that all surfers are joined by one ocean.
* Paddle around the impact zone.
* Never fight a rip tide.
* Watch out for other surfers after a big set.
* Pass on my stoke to a non-surfer.
* Ride, and not paddle in to shore.
* Catch a wave every day, even in my mind.
* Honor the sport of kings.
Staff writer Scott Willoughby can be reached at 303-954-1993 or swilloughby@denverpost.com.
