The First of the Last

By Jamie Redman

Click, Click, Click
I strap in my bindings
and waddle, as if I am an awkward penguin,
with one foot
into the board.

I’m ready

to get in the
first of my last runs
for the season.

I’m at the front of the line,

and approaching the
sun-bright sign that reads
“WAIT HERE”
The chair comes up from behind
to climb me up the mountain.
It scoops me up,
and I quickly scramble to a
“safe” position.
There is still worry
that I could fall off
or if my binding mysteriously
came undone
thus injuring some innocent person below.
A calming sigh
soothes my every doubt,
as the cold, brisk air,
patters against my cheeks
sending a rapid shiver
through all my body.

I observe my surroundings.

There are
children much younger than I
on skis.
With no poles,
no fear.
They speed down the slope,
leaving instructors or parents
to catch up.
I chuckle under my heavy,
altitude-impacted breath.


I see fellow beginner boarders
falling, falling, falling
hoping I won’t get hurt
when I do the same.
As dazed as I am,
I forget that the chair
is nearing the end of the lift.

I successfully slide off,

down the small, carved out hill
that has been worn down by
many skis and snowboards.
I am proud of myself for not toppling off.
I sit myself down
in a section of slushy snow
that will soon begin to seep into my pants.
I then securely fasten my
left foot into the snowboard.
After taking my usual
deep breath before a run,
I strongly push up on my delicate wrists,
and I try to use momentum
to get me standing.
I start inching down to where
I can begin to turn.

I’m FREE…