Pat Moore and Waterville Valley present to you the 2nd annual Back to the Boneyard. Rain, slush, PBR, dirts, Deb Moore, and a contest that only New Hampshire could host.
A few days before Back to the Boneyard II, the weather forecast switched from abundant sunshine to a 100% chance of rain. Said rain started on Monday, poured through the night, and was coming down hard when we woke up this morning. In spite of this, everyone who’d been looking forward to this day was at Waterville Valley smiling when we arrived. This collection included 50 or so New Hampshire up-and-comers, most of the guys you looked up to on the Northeast in the last ten years, a few Plymouth Staters, Pat’s Mom Deb, a gang of US Open stragglers, and some friends. Good times ensued.
First things first; put on a trash bag poncho, cause it was wet out there, but as many (and anyone from New England knows) wet snow is fun as shit. Next; challenge a friend in the Bill Enos Giant Slalom, a one on one race for bragging rights. I made the mistake of challenging T-Bird, little did I know he’s a dirty cheat. After swearing my revenge and cursing for longer than I’m proud of, the jump was opened and attention shifted to getting air. Trains of old school grabs and shiftys followed. It’s funny how those who have it always will; guys who hadn’t hit a jump in 3 years dropped in and stole the show. Standouts included Brian Barb, Eric Kovall, Matt Gormley, Joel Muzzey, and Preston Strout. In addition to these classically trained vets the younger crowd brought a slew of hammers and technicality lead by Chas Guldemond, Tim Humphreys, Brandon Reis, Jeremy Thompson, Greg Maxwell, Tyler Davis, and many more. When the jump had been sufficiently slayed (and then some) the crown jewel of the Boneyard was finally unveiled. In the spirit of the old, Waterville had built a 15ft quarteripe with a wallride extension, a tire bonk, and a hip transfer. Maxwell dropped first and landed a flawless McTwist that opened the flood gates. The wallride was planted, Guldemond destroyed the transfer, and every manner or quarterpipe trickery known to man was executed. Okay, so i might be might be exaggerating, but we all had a lot of fun, well more than enough to forget the rain.
At the end of the day the herd moved inside, rung out our gloves, and ate some wings. The award ceremony was met with cheers, cat calls, and some back-handed remarks. Maxwell left with a sword (his prize as King of the Boneyard) and we all left with a warm feeling in the center of our soaked, now sponge-like bodies. Thanks Pat. Thanks Deb. Thanks Waterville. Thanks sponsors. And thanks to everyone who came out and reminded us all how much fun we can have and that we should never forget our roots.