One of the arguments against ever trying anything new is that you might look ridiculous doing it. Or that you might fail. Thirdly, there is the possibility that someone might take a picture of your attempt and ridicule you. On the other hand, someone could look at what you’re doing, say, “wow, I bet that didn’t hurt that much, and maybe I’ll try it sometime.”
I was thinking of the last option, there on the beach in Costa Rica (Playa Avellano, where there was nary a hazelnut tree, despite the town’s name). One day I will learn to surf. However, since I live within a stone’s throw of the very beginning of the Humboldt current, which brings frigid water up the coast of South America, and I am a confirmed freeze-me-not, I’ve taken “learn to surf” to mean “do a new sport that involves standing on a board.”
Unfortunately, I’ve already skateboarded and snowboarded in my life, in my teens and in my 20s, placing them safely in the “I’ve tried it” column. This leaves me no other option but to try sandboarding in a few weeks when I go to the way north of Chile. Sandboarding. Strapping a board to your feet and sliding down sand as fast as gravity and your beating heart will take you.
I promise a report from the field if you promise not to take any pictures of me with my feet in the air and my legs akimbo.