I walked through the dimly lit streets with my surfboard under one arm and my ski bag in the other. I’m used to getting odd looks as I walk through my urban neighborhood of Boston with a surfboard under my arm, but this was the first time I had skis with me too. The odd looks didn't stop that morning as I crossed in front of a bus and the driver did a double take and stared.
Every year I look for new ways to both challenge myself physically and have fun, and a few weeks back I had the idea to ski and surf in the same day.
Ideally I’d share a day like this with a friend to maximize the fun. But as I’ve gotten older I’ve found that it's increasingly difficult to get my friends to partake in my crazy adventures and ideas if they don’t align perfectly to their schedules. It’s hard enough to get friends to agree on a time to just surf or ski, but both on the same day while taking off work? Odds of finding someone to join me seemed about as high as witnessing a solar eclipse. So I decided to do it on my own. I wasn’t about to let logistics or the fear of doing it alone stop me.
As I escaped the city and drove up through New Hampshire, I enjoyed the view as I slowly started to see snow on the ground and the mountains came into view. Seeing clean snow on the ground again instantly made me relaxed and the stress of daily life started to melt away. And the first sight of mountains never fails to bring a smile to my face. As I turned into the parking lot at Loon Mountain I stepped out of my car, breathed in the fresh mountain air, and I knew I made the right decision.
I skied right onto the lift with no line to speak of, cruised up the mountain in 10 minutes, and was at a towering 3,000 ft of elevation (this was New Hampshire after all). I cruised down the mountain with a dumb grin on my face and had the first three trails all to myself, with only the sound of the wind blowing in the trees to keep me company. I repeated this for the next three hours straight without a break, reveling in the solitude, the smooth snow that day, and the beauty of the nature around me.
Given the small crowds that day, I didn’t chat with as many people as I usually might in the lift line or on a gondola but one interaction made up for that with its quality. As I rode the gondola up the mountain I shared it with two parents and their young daughter. They switched between speaking English and Chinese as they laughed and discussed how much fun they were having that day.
I was impressed at how fluently this 4 or 5 year old girl could speak both languages and engage in an adult conversation. Her excitement and joy for seemingly one of her first days skiing was contagious.
“Let’s try the Bear Claw again! It’s so much fun!” The girl shouted as soon as she got into the gondola.
“Do you want to try something harder than a green trail?” her dad asked.
“Yes but no blacks, they’re too dangerous for me!” she exclaimed.
“But what if I want to try one?” The dad questioned in a playful mock tone.
“They’re too dangerous for you too!” She quickly retorted.
We all laughed as we approached the summit and I hopped out of the gondola, happier than I entered it thanks to being present for a small but beautiful moment between a father and his daughter. It reminded me of skiing with my Dad when I was growing up and my first successful runs in the Poconos flashed back to mind.
After three peaceful hours on the slopes I felt lighter than the snow I had been skiing on and completely oblivious that it was still a work day. It felt time to shed more stress and my ski jacket and I headed out to begin the second chapter of my adventure.
I drove down the highway another two hours and made my way to one of the few New Hampshire beach towns to investigate the waves. My usual spot in Hampton Beach looked a bit unruly so I cruised along the coast a few miles until I saw a group of five surfers out in the water catching cleaner looking waves. The waves were small (2-3’) but they gradually peeled and rolled into shore in a lazy manner that gave the surfers plenty of time to catch them and enjoy the ride. I knew I found my spot.
I stretched, put on my wetsuit, waxed up my board and paddled out. It was the kind of day where I could paddle out and catch my first wave without even getting my hair wet. Clean and predictable waves that made for light work and a lot of fun.
The sun was shining, there was a light breeze, and the conversation in the lineup with a few other surfers was friendlier than usual after a few weeks without waves. Normally most surfers keep to themselves in the water, but I chatted with another guy who also took off work that day about how grateful we were to see some swell again after a dry spell. Good waves can become a top priority after a long enough hiatus from the ocean.
I even saw a few older people seemingly in their 50s or 60s taking a lesson from one of their friends. The fact that they were learning such a difficult sport at that age, in freezing water, made me respect them more than an Ironman athlete. Surfing is hard enough to learn when you’re young and the water is warm. As one of them paddled back to the lineup after catching a wave we exchanged nods and smiles, happy to share our joy that afternoon. Another brief moment with a stranger that I was lucky to enjoy by being in the right place at the right time.
I surfed for a few more hours and reveled in the natural beauty I was able to enjoy that day and the people I met along the way. I was grateful for the ability to do two of my favorite activities in the same day.
At first I had hesitated about attempting this adventure because I wanted to do it with a friend and thought it would be more fun to share it with someone. But as I went on with my day, I realized that I was sharing it with lots of other people, I just didn’t know them. I had one of the best days of my year so far and it was because I didn’t wait around for someone else to have fun with. I gave myself the gift of having fun on my own.
So the next time you’re putting off doing that thing you’ve been thinking about because you don’t want to do it alone, don't wait, get out there and give yourself a gift.
Big thanks to
for his editing help.Thank you for reading! A couple of small asks of you if you’ve made if this far.
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Love the sentiment of this essay. Just getting out there, making cool stuff happen, and being a leader (doing it alone and learning to be confident in walking your own way regardless of who joins)... reminds me how I want to live my life. Awesome story and great writing, thanks for sharing this Bennett.
We waste an incredible amount of time waiting for the perfect moment. This post is a good reminder that not waiting for the perfect moment is the barrier to having a good time.
Thanks for sharing, Bennet!