I love Devil’s Head. It’s the snowboarding equivalent of an old, tetanus riddled, metal jungle gym. Run by carnies and littered with overfed, pasty-faced drunks with swords strapped to their feet, this place remains one of the last great lines to that kind of true-grit American fun you could only get in the strychnine-laced 1970′s. You remember the 1970′s right? That magical time before the whole known world was potty trained and pussy whipped? Yes, that time.
One of the things that helped make the days of yore so grand and, in turn, helped keep Devil’s Head so much fun despite the lack of any kind of actual grade change, was the very real prospect that the yellowing thread barely keeping this shit house from collapsing could snap at any minute. Well, that thread snapped last night at Devil’s Head.
“I seen all these people down here hurt and all this metal,” he said, referring to the base of the lift. “We were hearing screams from down here at the bottom and decided to jump off.”
Netz said he didn’t argue with the decision.
“These things aren’t supposed to go backwards,” he said.
You can read the whole article here.
Tonight join me in lighting a foily in fond memory of another good thing probably about to come to an end.