By Jeff Lund | For the Capital City Weekly
So there I was, waiting in line at a ski lift in California with my buddy Nate. I had traded a road bike for a snowboard my buddy never used and, being a novice, I bought a helmet because it wasn’t a matter of if I would fall, but how often.
Nate, 6 feet 7 inches tall, had a long way to fall every time, but shrugged at the thought of a cranial protection.
“It’s a Carhartt beanie,” he said, as if the brand name would protect him.
As I leaned down to adjust my boots, he dropped his board. It grazed my forehead, putting a gash in the helmet.
“Good buy, Lund.”
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