Ledger clean.

I am not a “joiner” or “doer.” Likely a product of my Generation X upbringing where showing care about anything at all was deeply uncool, I have never once voted for a “rider of the year,” “clip of the year,” “moment of the year” or “move of the year” across any of our extreme sporting genres. I see the “fan favorite” contests on social media, the pleas for mercy, and steadfastly ignore.

No, I have never once voted until just days ago when I fiddled onto Red Bull’s website to press that button for John Jackson, sending him to Natural Selection as a wildcard and repaying a near-decade old debt.

For it was a near-decade ago that I was in Reno, Nevada with my new wife, her eight-year-old daughter and her brand-new Christmas puppy named Hashbrown. We had spent a happy holiday in Squaw but it was time for the dear child to rejoin her father and his family back home in San Diego. My wife and I were due in San Francisco.

The drive from Squaw to Reno had been uneventful save a growing nervousness in the child, who had never flown by herself before and never with a puppy, certainly not one named Hashbrown.

Sensible concern.

My wife and I tried to comfort her and she put on a brave face but as we wheeled her luggage into the terminal, the discomfort was palpable and heart-wrenching, made worse by the airline employees informing us that she was too young to fly with a puppy alone.

Right as tears began to bubble, John Jackson strode in also flying to San Diego. The very picture of a happy dirty hippie. He stopped to chat with my wife, she explained that it would be the child’s first solo flight and also first with Hashbrown and that the airline was gumming up the works.

John Jackson beamed and said, “I’ll take her!” And without a second thought signed up to be her guardian, putting his arm around her, picking Hashbrown’s kennel up and strolling through the gate with a smile.

The clouds parted.

That night, after landing, my wife called her daughter who recounted how enjoyable the trip had been, and how safe she felt, all thanks to John Jackson.

A near-decade on, that same John Jackson is headed to Jackson Hole, Wyoming to participate in Natural Selection, the vey picture of a happy dirty hippie, because his beautiful selflessness and my first ever vote.

Debt repaid.

Fate is a glorious thing.

San Clemente, California, is known for its robust surf and skate scenes but less snow for professional snowboarders on the cusp of hammering their stamp on the wide world of actions sports but 2020/21, amirite?

And let us meet 20-year-old Hailey Langland who is currently in Aspen, Colorado ahead of this weekend’s X-Games.

Hailey, who should, by rights, be out at Lowers just getting it was instead put on a different track by her prescient parents and dragged up to Big Bear at the tender age of five.

“They tried to get me started on like this tiny, tiny snowboard that was like bigger than I was,” she told Fox 5 News. “It never really ended. We just kept going and I kind of fell in love with it, which is crazy because I grew up on the coast and I actually started snowboarding before I even started surfing.”

Prescient parents seeing as, if she started surfing first, Langland would be saddled with the World Surf League as her competitive outlet.

In any case, she will compete in Slope Style today, as opposed to wishing World Surf League CEO Erik Logan a speedy recovery from his season-breaking Covid-19 diagnosis.

“I feel pretty good,” she said. “I have been riding really well this season, comparatively to the last few seasons and I’m really excited to see where this winter’s going to take me. I feel really good and I’m just happy to be back in Aspen.”

Watch on ESPN tonight.

We live in the future.

Selfies have become a cultural cancer, what with folk obsessively turning cameras back on themselves to capture every last expression, but in snowy British Columbia selfies can also save lives and let us learn the very wonderful story of a snowboarder out alone in the backcountry near Cypress Provincial Park.

It is there that an avalanche trapped him, burying him to the waist, but he was able to retrieve his phone and call his girlfriend who, in turn, called the police. The man then snapped a photo of his location allowing rescue teams to spot him from the air and scramble a ground team which pulled him out hours later.

A doctor on the scene declared he was in serious, but stable, condition with a fractured pelvis and other injuries.

North Shore Rescue team leader Mike Danks said the whole business was very complex involving avalanche experts, a doctor, an emergency room nurse, paramedic and multiple rope rescue teams as well as ski patrol.

He added when in backcountry trouble the first call should be to 911.

Not the girlfriend.

Apparently.

You woke up in the rusted frame burned out old Deville

Las Vegas is known for many things, gambling, drinking, strip clubs, illicit drugs, guns, cheating on spouses, fighting, cheating in general, etc. and, equally, not known for its fresh, fluffy snow but 2020/21, amirite?

Over the past 72-hours, Lee Canyon resort, an easy 40 minute drive from both the Wynn and Encore, received 30-inches of epic powder and its marketing director is seeking to lure people away from acting naughty.

The main thing about this season is that we wanted to be here for the community,” said Jim Seely. “We want to be a place where everyone can come escape their routine and maybe some of the constraints that COVID has put on their life. We want people to get outdoors. We believe that skiing and snowboarding are good for the soul and physical health.”

Very fine but is it altogether true?

Las Vegas Strip-style sin, while gross, can usually be cured with 12-step programs/doctor prescriptions.

Snowboarding, on the other hand, takes hold and refuses to let go for, possibly, a lifetime leading to many poor decisions, families and friends being left behind, etc.

A real conundrum.

Which would you rather suffer?