My name is Scarlett and I’m a shithouse.

Remember when I told you about my horrific first time snowboarding on the dry slope? Well my first time on an actual real mountain was much, much worse.

Let me paint a picture for you; there I am. Kitted out in Westbeach, my Oakleys on my head… the absolute picture of the adorable snowboarding bird.

We’re staying at one of those ski in-ski out resorts that basically mean you hit the snow as soon as you leave the door of the hotel. So, to clarify, I’m not even on a real slope yet… I’m on the “road” leading to the slope.

One my left there’s a snowmobile smoothing the run, on the right there’s a four metre drop into a brook. A drop I should have been absolutely nowhere fucking near had I not just taken a T6 and thought I was fucking Jamie Nicholls.

The next couple of minutes were a blur, but somewhere in there, all of my mates were at the start of the run and, somehow, I’m on my arse on the edge of a sheer drop… Blinking my way through the tears and on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

What I should have done was unclip and start again. That would have been brave.

What did I do? I unclipped and walked back up the slope to the hotel.

I know, you’re disappointed in me, aren’t you? Mate, so am I.

But maybe, sometimes, being brave is laughing at yourself, having a hot chocolate and promising yourself you’ll try again in an hour. Because I might be a shithouse, but I’m not a quitter.

My name is Scarlett and I’m a brass necked shithouse.

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