How a second hand snowboard shaped my life

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If it wasn’t for an old, oxygen brand, two by four of a snowboard, and some other gear from the local ski swap, I genuinely don’t know what my life would look like right now. It’s possible that had I never started snowboarding, I would have accepted a safer life, one where I stayed in my home town, graduated high-school and went to school for a safe career. Had I not learned how to navigate risk through this sport, I may never have accepted risk as an opportunity for growth like snowboarding taught me…

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If it wasn’t for an old, oxygen brand, two by four of a snowboard, and some other gear from the local ski swap, I genuinely don’t know what my life would look like right now. It’s possible that had I never started snowboarding, I would have accepted a safer life, one where I stayed in my home town, graduated high-school and went to school for a safe career. Had I not learned how to navigate risk through this sport, I may never have accepted risk as an opportunity for growth like snowboarding taught me…

If it wasn’t for an old, oxygen brand, two by four of a snowboard, and some other gear from the local ski swap, I genuinely don’t know what my life would look like right now. It’s possible that had I never started snowboarding, I would have accepted a safer life, one where I stayed in my home town, graduated high-school and went to school for a safe career. Had I not learned how to navigate risk through this sport, I may never have accepted risk as an opportunity for growth like snowboarding taught me…

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   If it wasn’t for an old, oxygen brand, two by four of a snowboard, and some other gear from the local ski swap, I genuinely don’t know what my life would look like right now. It’s possible that had I never started snowboarding, I would have accepted a safer life, one where I stayed in my home town, graduated high-school and went to school for a safe career.

Had I not learned how to navigate risk through this sport, I may never have accepted risk as an opportunity for growth like snowboarding taught me. Maybe that’s putting a little more weight to a simple act of a parent just providing the gear they could afford for their kid who wanted to try something new, but looking back, my life would be vastly different had it not been for snowboard from a pawn shop.

That first lesson, and the subsequent passion for everything that came from it moved me out of my hometown, gave me the drive to get up after I fall, the confidence to try new things. Without it I’m not sure I would have done half of the things I’m proud to have done in my twenty seven years.


I didn’t grow up wealthy, but I was hungry for experiences all the same, there wasn’t much I didn’t want to try, and thankfully I had parents who supported that hunger and did what they could. Of course, not having much money to spare makes a person resourceful, driven, and humble. You make do with what you have, and don’t pass up good second-hand gear when its there. All throughout my life, I’ve combed over the bike swaps, ski swaps, yard sales and online market placing to try and fill the gaps in my gear until I could afford new equipment, and lessen my impact on the world by consuming less.

It was with that first snowboard I got that a fire was sparked in me, one that I’m not sure my parents expected. It weighed about ten pounds, and had the flexibility of a two by four plank, a fact that 15 years later makes me cringe, but before then I didn’t have an outlet to get outside, so the gear didn’t matter. It was the snowboard we could afford, and it enabled me to pursue this new passion of mine. Without it, my outside activities usually consisted of hiking and fishing with my dad from time to time in the summer. Don’t get me wrong, I liked spending time with my dad, but it always felt like I was participating in HIS activities, I didn’t feel that I could identify with it because he owned it in some way.

Snowboarding was different though, this sport that came into my life through a spur of the moment lesson my mom and I did, but I was the one who dug my claws in. I felt like I had some ownership over it, like it was mine in some way. I clung to every aspect of it I could and saved up as much as I possible from my part time jobs as a kid to pay for more gear. I worked at gear shops because I knew it would help get me discounts, and tried my best to focus on the things I really wanted. At sixteen, filled with teenage angst and a drive to make something big out of my life, like most of us that age, I moved out of my small town after getting a taste of competitive snowboarding, and headed south to chase it. It was in Vernon that I really came to identify myself as a “snowboarder”.

I scrambled to find a coach and get to as many contests for slope-style and rail jams as I could while doing my last two years of high-school. The school had an athletes program that would work with your sport, but I would still skip school to be on the mountain practicing, although my teachers all seemed to understand. At one point, after being gone at a contest for a week I showed up to history on a powder day during first period, feeling a little guilty for being behind, and my teacher refused to have me in class and insisted I make use of the powder day. Although confused, I did as I was told and went snowboarding.

Like most winter athletes in Canada, I ended up in whistler after high-school. I lived the classic lifestyle there, one with very little money, too much partying, and just enough of a job to get by each winter. It was the best way to have spent the first few years of my twenties, no hangovers, endless energy, and an insatiable drive. I learned quickly that you don’t have to have your parents funding your life to achieve your goals or full sponsorships to exceed, you just need some drive, flexibility, kindness, some good people around you, and you can make anything happen. I stayed for over two years working hard when I could, getting a bit of help from sponsors, my parents and some savings. But I mostly just worked hard, year round at a grocery store because I knew food was a big cost, and theres always bruised bananas to eat and in construction in the summer to keep in shape and fill up my savings.

 
I learned quickly that you don’t have to have your parents funding your life to achieve your goals, or full sponsorships to exceed, you just need some drive, kindness, some good people around you, and you can make anything happen.

  But when you’re flinging yourself off of jumps, and hitting rails on a daily basis, gear gets destroyed pretty fast and without a full sponsorship, there was no way I would be able to buy two new boards every season. So I improvised to keep myself a float. I talked to brand reps about cheaper, or free boards to help me out, and tried. my best to take care of my own. Whenever I did get another snowboard, they weren’t always brand new, sometimes it was just the demo boards the reps where done with after a season of lending them out at industry days, but I was grateful all the same.

I constantly repaired my binding parts year after year whenever I saw the union binding rep, just so I wouldn’t have to buy another pair. Aside from a buckle or two, they where perfectly good, just a little dented and frayed. I became very comfortable with the idea of keeping my gear operational, not just pretty and new, this enabled me to afford travel to the contests I wanted to go to. My priority always went to WHAT I was doing, rather than what I was doing it WITH. I was spending every day on snow, that’s what mattered.


It was near the end of my time living in Whistler that my mindset started to shift from competing, to just enjoying where this sport, and lifestyle brought me. I wanted to do more then just be a snowboarder for myself. I had also dealt with a fair number of injuries and concussions at this point, so a change wasn’t just desired, it was necessary for my mental and physical health. I needed to come to terms with the fact that if I wanted to avoid brain damage from concussions by the time I hit thirty, I would have to move on.

I started hiking more during my summer seasons, and spending days biking between lakes on my little second-hand commuter, replacing my Subaru that needed always needed repairs. It was one of my most cherished bikes, donned with a milk crate. I had grand plans of travel and hiking, but only really had the money for one thing: snowboarding, so everything else I wanted to do had to be cheap. For the time being, I kept myself in Whistler, knowing it wasn’t going to be sustainable in the long run, but unsure of such a big identity change I knew was coming for me. So I began easing myself into this new person I was becoming, someone maybe a little less single minded than I had been for the past eight years.

It started with a backpack, an already very used men’s osprey pack that fit just enough to not be painful so long as I didn’t have too much weight in it. Paired with a sleeping bag, tent, jet boil, and therma-rest I borrowed from friends, I spent a couple of nights up wedge mount on my own, the first time I had ever done an overnight in the mountains, alone, and up arguably one of the steepest trails nearby. I didn’t want to have to keep waiting for a friend to join me, I wanted to go, so I went on my own. During that hike, through all the nerves of being on my own, in mountains I hadn’t been before I found a sort of clarity.

I felt as if this was where I needed to be, away from all the bustle, connecting with my thoughts more. I went because I wanted to go, not because others where doing it, and stepping out of my comfort zone gave me more confidence, like it always did. I made friends with some others who hiked up together, and they took me in, a classic habit of kind people when they see young women out on their own maybe, either way I was grateful and enjoyed the time spent with them in the mountains.

While I loved my life in competitive sports, and everything it brought me, but I was ready to spend my time outside pursuing just that, time outside. I adored this new ability to just go places with only what I had on my back and felt a connection with the environment I had as a kid hiking with my dad but felt that it was more my own now. It was that hiking trip up Wedge-mount that had me pack up my things in the busy mountain town and move home to start a new path.

  Quickly I began finding myself outside the parties and scene of the whistler. All the little things that I cared deeply about, our impact on the environment, how we show up as humans, what our choices mean for future generations, and how a passion for the outdoors goes beyond the sport, I started to come back stronger than ever. I wanted to use my time on this planet not just for ascending a ladder or being better than the competition, I wanted to inspire and be inspired by others, I wanted to use my voice in whatever way I could to try and share the love for the outdoors and share the ways we can protect it for generations to come. It felt like I had come home, to the sentiments I had grown up with, being a part of nature wholly. I wanted to do the things I love and do it in a positive way.

I started split-boarding with the help of the local gear shop in town, lending me the gear I needed until I could afford or commit to finding my own. A culmination of all the things I love, the mountains, the independence, and the people. It was different then competing and living in Whistler, or training in Colorado, everyone seemed to be on the same page, it was being outside for the sake of being outside and doing it under the power of your own body.

Slowly, over years now, I’ve grown my gear closet both from second hand finds like I did when I was a kid, and using the money I saved by doing that to buy the big things. Many of those things have stayed with me for years, grown with me and my skills, or have been passed along to friends and strangers hoping to do the same.


Make it stand out

I learned early in my life that having to compromise on the things I wanted was okay. I didn’t have to have the newest gear to do it with, I found a lot of purpose and sense of freedom in “making it work”.

All in all, I learned early in my life that having to compromise on the things I wanted was okay. I didn’t have to have the newest gear to do it with, I found a lot of purpose and sense of freedom in “making it work”. I’ve been able to travel, pick up things like surfing and spear fishing because I learned early on to be humble, find opportunity wherever I could, and not let barriers hold me back.

I can’t count the amount of times I’ve borrowed, bought second hand, or just made due with what I already owned, to gain experiences. Even when I haven’t even been able to buy pre-loved equipment for a trip, I’ve found an insane amount of support in community. Most notably sourcing absolutely every piece of gear I would need for a two week fly in back country split boarding glacier trip in New Zealand, down to gloves and goggles, simply from asking nicely and meeting wonderful strangers. Of course, after all the running around, weather skunked our plans, but that’s how things often go. It’s the sense of community in outdoor sports like that, that makes me really proud to be a part of, because most of us have been in the position where we need to borrow.

I started to use the small platform I had to encourage change by doing it myself, speaking up about issues I had with people disrespecting natural places and leaving trash, or consuming more than necessary to keep on trend. Having done more travel by this point in my life, and being from northern B.C. I saw a lot of change in the landscapes around me, the glaciers in the north that were two to three times bigger when I was a child to the size they are now, to pollution on beaches in Indonesia, and in our parks here. I know that any change we can make, big or small is important, but sharing it with others is one of the most important things we can do.

We don’t HAVE to have everything, if we have community, we don’t HAVE to feel left out, if we have options, we CAN do everything we want to do in life if we are given the tools to do it. Sometimes it takes some searching, but its worth it.

In the end, one of the easiest ways we can change our habits is HOW we consume, while still doing the things we love. Not many of us want to completely write off the troubling parts of our world and live in a remote cabin. I’ve been seen as an influencer more than once, and while the term makes me a little uncomfortable, I do feel a sense of responsibility in what I say online, or anywhere and what I’m showing is important. So often with the rise of social media, we’ve seen the colour and style trends come and go even in the outdoor industry that prides itself on being responsible, people still scramble to buy more gear than they need, even when theirs is perfectly good still. And while i’m not always perfect, I’ve had the same Patagonia down jacket for 6 years now, and its been on nearly every trip, and has the patches to prove it.

Without the community, financial and time advantages of second hand gear outlets, I don’t think I would be where I am today, starting with a crappy used snowboard from a pawn shop, and a grateful attitude, I managed to do almost everything on my list from when I was a kid, to now, and the list just keeps growing. Even now, a little older and slightly more set up, when I look for a new split board, surf board or wet suit, I look first at the second hand dealers and friends who would also benefit from me purchasing their gear, and keeping it in the world a bit longer.

 

We all have a responsibility to make changes in the places we can, put our money where our mouth is, and choose to support the brands that aim to make a difference.


To date, these are some of my favourite second hand purchases:

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My 10 ft Robert August “what I ride” Log

Of the 5 surfboards I’ve had over the years, this is my favourite. I loved this thing more than most of my possessions in life, and still do even though I passed it along to a friend when I had to leave NZ. I’ve never paddled laps of a point break as fast on any other board, to the constant annoyance of my partner.

 

My Takayama Scorpion Mid-length

This was my first surfboard, bought off an American couple while I was living in Byron Bay. And like any love struck individual I spent far too much money to take it home with me. This board is still with me, collecting dust unfortunately.

 

A 700 fill REI down jacket

A very lucky and warm find in a thrift shop in Dunedin. This kept me from hypothermia while living in an unheated van on the south island of NZ in winter.

My full suspension Mountain bike.

(Commencal Meta AL)

It is way cooler than me, and while I may not be the best biker, but I do love this bike.

 

My Fuji-film X-t3

Cameras aren’t cheap, but buying this used was such a great choice to be able to downsize my gear for travel.

 

My first tent

A single person Eureka tent, it was perfect for me at the time. Not too big, and affordable.

Spearfishing gear

A lot of this was also my surfing gear, but a large amount of our stuff was used like lead weights, catch bags, and a lot of other gear was just salvaged from second hand shops. Most creatively, a lawnmower bag tied to a foam float we found to use as a catch bag, and a kids body board and a mesh onion bag as a second catch bag. It never had to be pretty, it just had to work.

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