Wyatt had never been the most articulate guy, and he didn’t want to spend a whole lotta time thinking through everything. He did best when acting on instinct. Too much thinking led to worries, and worries weren’t his friend up there on the slopes.
Still, this film would be a gateway to more sponsors, so he plastered a stupid grin on his face. “I’m told this is one of the better backcountry ridges in the area. As you know, most of my experience is in terrain parks, so my sole goal today is to take a few runs and get a handle on the transition . . . test my fluidity, see how I manage unexpected natural obstacles like a hidden rock or tree, and so on. Despite my airdog reputation, I’m not planning on pushing hard or attempting jumps and tricks. Just getting a feel for the difference.”
“What’s your biggest concern?” Mari asked.
Great. Not only did he need to think hard, but he also had to discuss the very things he didn’t want to dwell on.
“Honestly, I’m trying not to focus on anything negative. It’s a beautiful spot with tons of fresh snow. I’m eager to get out there, and hopefully won’t end up in a yard sale.”
“Yard sale?” Mari’s brows rose.
Wyatt took a second and really looked at her, standing there in her designer snow boots, matching snug-fit outfit, big sunglasses—all black, of course. Very New York, as revealed by her unfamiliarity with snowboarding.
“Major wipeout where you lose some gear.” He wondered then if she hoped he’d wipe out. Would make for more interesting film, no doubt.
“I see you have a backpack, which is something you never wore in slopestyle competition. Can you talk about what’s in there?”
Wyatt twisted the pack around and unzipped its outer pocket. “This here is called the wet room, and it’s for avalanche safety gear, like this shovel and the probe. Inside the main body of the pack, I’ve got lunch, extra goggles and gloves, sunscreen, first aid kit, and some other stuff. Buddy over there has all the same stuff in his, too, plus camera equipment.”
“Seems like you’re taking on a lot—making a comeback after two years away from competition and transitioning to a sport with different terrain and dangers.”
“I’ve always liked a challenge.” Wyatt smiled, not wanting her to probe his vulnerabilities.
Mari, however, wouldn’t roll over that easily. She had a job to do, after all. Like every reporter he knew, she wanted blood in the water, and she’d keep chumming until she got some.
“Some say you are getting too old to compete in slopestyle, and that the new stars have bigger, better jumps than in your day. Is that another reason you’ve switched to freeriding?”
Wyatt looked away for a minute, uncertain whether to bluff or be honest at this point. He couldn’t guess three steps ahead to how she’d edit his comments to make him look smart or stupid, brave or foolish. He could give a simple yes or no to that question and be done with it. However, he valued honesty. “No doubt I would’ve considered a twenty-five-year-old competitor ancient when I won my first International gold medal at nineteen. And when I left the sport, no one had landed a quad cork yet. It wouldn’t have been a cakewalk to step back into that arena now, ’though I’d like to think I still have it in me.”
He paused, not able to admit that his brother’s crash had spooked him. That the hard surfaces and groomed parks of his past no longer seemed safe. But he couldn’t say the words—at least, not aloud. “Like I already told you, once we knew Ryder was out of the woods, it became clear that, mentally, he was struggling to accept all the changes—to see a future that excited him. So, I hope, by letting go of the old, familiar stuff, I might inspire him—and others in his shoes—to embrace change. New challenges can be exciting. Nothing lasts forever, but you keep going, pushing, growing.”
He shrugged and waved a hand, signaling an end to that discussion. He’d already shared more than he’d intended and more than Ryder would appreciate. Then again, had Ryder come along as he’d originally promised, Wyatt wouldn’t have needed to ad lib like that. “Let’s stop talking and get moving. Visibility is good now, and I’d rather go up there before it snows again.”
Without giving Mari a chance to ask another question, he zipped up his pack, fastened his board to it, and hefted everything onto his back. “Ready, Buddy?”
Buddy nodded. “Let’s go.”
Jim shut down the other camera and began packing it away.
“We’ll be in touch over the walkie-talkies.” Mari waved hers in the air. “Between Buddy, Jim, and the GoPro, we’ll have some great footage today.”