Instead of trying to please all our readers by providing a well-balanced blend of opinions here in the Letters column, this month it's all about pleasing us. We recently received a flood of long, emotionally charged letters in our mailbox. Some were too lengthy to edit down. Some were too intense to transcribe. Here are the rest of them. They're not all happy, but some of history's best stories were born out of tragedy. We promise to get back to the "Snowboarding's the raddest sport ever, I wrote a poem about it" letters next month.

And The Winner Is ...

Last February I was riding three feet of powder at a local resort in Tahoe-delving deep in the temple of trees, praising Jah. After several runs, I was chillin' at the bottom when this sorry-ass mama's boy approached me and said, "Stop! I'm placing you under citizen's arrest!" I smirked and asked, "What?" He claimed to be an off-duty ski patrol in street clothes and was angry because he "saw a guy cut out of bounds, and that guy was you!" Feeling like Tupac at an East Coast party, I told him he must have mistaken me for someone else. Then another patroller skied up and started interrogating me. I got a bit irate and he asked to see my pass. My mistake was that I pulled it out and he snatched it from my paws. I asked him to kindly return my personal property, but he refused.

They insisted they saw me out of bounds when I was sticking to the runs-and I didn't see any "closed" or "out of bounds" signs in the trees. After much bickering, they determined that I had a bad attitude, and I should be placed under arrest. I was escorted down the hill to crackhead, power-tripping ski patroller number three, who tried to give me the, "I'm a snowboarder, too" speech to make me admit guilt. After three hours of them getting pissed because I wouldn't kiss their asses, they called the sheriff in.

To make a long story short, I went to court, pleaded not guilty, and they took it to trial. I was in the Placer County Courthouse with all the meth heads and junkie thieves. I'm not a hardened criminal, but the DA was determined to prosecute. I had to make five separate trips to the courthouse-each time pleading not guilty. Finally, the judge sent the case to the Supreme Court, but offered me a plea bargain first. I told him again I was innocent, but I would plead "no contest" if he would drop the charges. I blew it. After my plea, the judge sentenced me to a 445-dollar fine (to be paid as restitution to the ski patrol), a year probation, and one night in jail.

I fought the law and the law won.

Dave Federico

Tahoe, California

Four-hundred and forty-five dollars? That's about the price of a new snowboard these days, isn't it? Yep, with 445 dollars you could buy yourself a brand-new Salomon snowboard ... or we could just give you one. Then you could sell your old board and use the money to help buy a new season pass to a different resort. And when people ask you where you got your new ride, you could say it was restitution for being needlessly persecuted over poorly marked ski area pseudo-boundaries. The judicial system in Tahoe is gnarly, kids. Be careful up there.

Requiem

About three years ago I met some kids at a local mountain. All of them snowboarded. I felt stupid in my clunky ski boots, but I needed an extra push to get on a board. Somehow these guys saw some potential in me and promised to teach me. It took a lot of crawling on my elbows and plenty of bruises, but a week later I was carving and had found passion in my life. Those same kids taught my friends, and we ended up always riding together, entering comps, and chilling on the weekends together.

One of those kids was named Bill. The day he taught me to ride he was wearing this bright Hawaiian T-shirt that went perfectly with his long, brown hair. He didn't say much, but when he did it would always conjure up a laugh. As the months and seasons passed, we grew apart. He became more of a face on the slopes, and when I saw him, a nod was all we exchanged. It was too bad, but we lived far away from each other, and I rarely saw him away from the slopes.

The last time I saw him was a few weeks before he took his own life at the age of eighteen. Again, we only said a few words and went our separate ways. I always wanted to sit him down and catch up, but for some reason I never did. I may regret that for the rest of my life.

The reason I am not giving out my name is because more than 50 kids who knew him could write the same letter, but they are in too much shock. This letter is an attempt to represent all those kids. He touched the lives of everyone he met and left all people with something to think about. All I could say to his parents was, "I feel like I owe him my life because he taught me the sport that fills my winters with laughter and excitement." He taught me to snowboard on the bunny hill when he could ride the black diamonds and do crazy tricks that I am still trying to conquer.

The positive thing that came out of this was it brought the old local crew together again, and it was like we'd all been riding together the day before. I missed all of them so much. So, as all you kids grow older, don't lose those good friends because they need you as much as you need them.

We all miss you, Bill, on the snow and off.

Anonymous in Massachusetts

Sigh

Hey, I love your magazine, especially the interviews and awesome pictures. But now I'll tell you what I hate: all those stupid letters that you guys print full of filthy language and complaints. It never fails. Each issue I have to tear them out so my mom won't read them and terminate my subscription. Also, isn't this mag about snowboarding? Then why do you have to include pornography?

A cute girl in Montana

This magazine is about snowboarding ... and snowboarders. Snowboarders are people, and all people are different-have different beliefs, different interests, different methods of communicating, etc. While different may sometimes be offensive, at least it isn't boring. Censorship is boring. Also, seeing all those naughty words and Reef ads obviously hasn't changed your values thus far, but they've made you think about them a bit. Thinking is good. We give a big thumbs-up to free thought, as well as free speech. Tell your mom that.

Porn Palace

I just want to say that you cause me great pain and suffering. I can't wait for the snow. I've almost forgotten what if feels like to be outside and cold, let alone gliding down a mountain with the wind scalding my face. So far I've been able to deal with it by focusing on work, relationships, and finding other adrenaline-raising activities. That is until I visited the newsstand on my lunch break last week and found your first issue.

I went numb. I didn't want to do anything but snowboard. So I put on a snowboarding video I've seen 100 times, thinking that would help, but it only fed my desire. I pulled my ride out of the closet and started tweaking the bindings and inspecting the edges. I slid my boots on to see if they still fit. With the video running, I buckled the bindings, stood, wheelied, ollied. I started to remember what it's like to be on the mountain, on the chairlift, riding, trying new tricks ...

But I can't physically experience any of this. It's only f-king September! For the love of God, why do you put this evil drug on the newsstand so early? I may as well be paralyzed. I can't escape all those fantastic images you put in my mind. I am rendered useless, and I blame you-you who put out such an awe-inducing tease. That's all your magazine is, an evil tease of epic proportions. A tease that oozifies my brain and gives me the heartache of a lost love.

Thanks a f-kin' lot.

Josh

Eastern Pennsylvania

Josh would have gotten the free snowboard this month, but he didn't include a return address or phone number in his letter so we had no way of getting ahold of him. Oh well.

Anybody Seen Richard?

Listen to this shit: Some f-ks busted in my local skate/snow shop and grabbed all they could. It was early August, at The Board Room in Lakewood, Colorado. They drove a truck through the front of the store, busting through iron bars, grabbed a bunch of the newly arrived '98/99 boards, and took off. If whoever did this reads this letter: I hope your season SUCKS. (If you even ride, dickhead.) I really don't know how someone who rides could do this to a local-not corporate-shop.

Chris Smith

Lakewood, Colorado

Drugs Are Bad

I am writing in attempt to persuade my fellow riders to avoid the life of drugs and drug dealing. I was living in Breckenridge, Colorado, and instead of working harder to make rent and pay bills I took the easy way out and started selling herbs-relatively small amounts, but over the years it accumulated. Anyway, I had been out of the "life" for about two years when two guys I used to hook up, but hadn't talked to since I quit, got busted. In return for a lighter sentence they gave my name to the feds. They don't have to catch you "red-handed" as a lot of us would like to believe. All they need is two informants who say you're guilty. I was a first-time offender and had just finished college, but that didn't make a bit of difference.

Now here I am. I was living in one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and now I'm facing five to 40 years in the federal pen. Listen to me when I say there is no beating the feds, any lawyer will tell you. It's been a year since I've been in this filthy, gang-ridden prison. I jones for the snow, my home, my friends, and my pit bulls. I won't see any of it again for a long time! I'm not trying to preach, but having your freedom taken away from you isn't worth all the f-king money in the world!

I thought I was tough, but I was stupid. The tough guys work hard and stay away from the dumb shit. Remember, they don't have to catch you in the act. Beware, my friends. Be smart and ride hard!

Dave "The Truck" Gorman

Anthony, Texas

Letters (which may be edited for clarity and space) should be sent in marked: Letter To The Editor, TransWorld SNOWboarding. By snail-trail mail: 353 Airport Rd., Oceanside, CA 92054. By FAX: (760) 722-0653. By e-mail: [email protected]

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