Vail Exacts a Price in Blood

So, I'm here in Avon, CO for my annual snowboarding trip with the gang. We've returned to the scene of Winning Run's knee injury. Evidently, the mountains here have some blood feud with us because it has taken its vengeance out on me this time.

Yesterday, we went to Vail after spending some of Wednesday at Beaver Creek. The conditions were great: sunny, packed powder, not too crowded. We returned to one of our favorite runs, a double black diamond called Blue Ox. It's pretty steep in a few spots and thrilling to ski.

A view up Blue Ox.

Anywho, near the end of the day, we decided to head to Vail's enormous back bowls for a few runs before the lifts closed. In what would prove to be a regrettable choice, we hit Marmot Valley, a black diamond mogul run. During the run, I caught my board's heel edge on a mogul and fell ass-over-tea kettle backwards. I heard a crunch like someone snapping a celery stalk and immediately felt searing pain in my right wrist.

I should avoid these in the future.

A moment later, Rodney skied up and asked if I was okay.

"Nope," I said. "I just broke my f*ing wrist."

After trying (and failing) to board out, I took off my board and climbed down the hill to the lift. I uncinched my gloves and wrist guards to have a look. Sure enough, the wrist was swelling in a pretty little lump above my thumb.

"Damn it. Maybe it's just sprained," I remarked to Rodney and Jeff.

"Maybe," they said.

Because we were on the back side of the mountain, we had to take a lift out. Then, I tracked down the ski patrol for a snowmobile ride to the gondola which took me to the base. From there, I hopped a shuttle back to our car to meet up with the gang and make the 20 minute drive back to Avon and the urgent care facility.

I was quickly seen and x-rayed. The doctor showed me the ray and pointed out the minuscule fracture. He told me that if I weren't doing snow sports, he'd send me home with a removable splint that I'd wear until I could do push-ups without pain. Because I was on a snowboard trip, however, they'd splint my arm for a few days until the swelling went down. Then, if I wanted, I could come back in to get a cast put on so that I could get back on the mountain and snowboard. Prior to leaving, I could come back in to get it cut off and replaced with a removable splint.

"Is that something you'd like to do?," the doctor asked.

"Absolutely," I told him with a huge smile. "I didn't come out here to sit around."

"Very good," he said. "We'll get you fixed up and see you on Sunday for the cast."

"Sweet. Thanks very much," I beamed.

Out-of commission for 72 hours until I get my cast.

So, now I need to figure out what color cast to get put on. I'm thinking hot pink.

For the record, I think that this was a freak sort of accident in which I fell in exactly the right way to do damage. Without the wrist guards that I always wear, I might be looking at a pretty serious break with no chance to get back out there.