Ok, let's find out about those of us who saw the light at 50 or over. To get the ball rolling, I'll start.
What's your story?
Grew up skateboarding in SoCal in the 60s.
In the 80s my college roommate hated to drive and loved to ski. Asked me to drive him out west for an interview. I'd never been on anything snow related before. Asshat left me on a black diamond at Alta. I was wearing jeans, a cotton flannel shirt, and a snow parka. You can guess the rest. I could not keep 2 sticks pointed in the same direction to save my life and swore to never touch the ski slope again in my life.
Fast forward 20 years; sitting in my house in Utah watching the snow fall, thinking "another winter sitting inside?" "Naw". At the same time there was a Toyota truck commercial on TV that showed some boarder blasting through deep pow and it looled like a blast.
So I asked the pierced and tatted up surf punk at work if he'd teach me to ride. He laughed but agreed to do it. We spent 2 nights at a local park on the hill learning toeside, then heelside, then linking turns.
After that it was up Big Cottonwood Canyon every weekend and Brighton on Wednesday nights. Then, work took me out to the midwest and I went once to Trollhaugen in Wisconsin. It was just too depressing after spending days in waist deep Utah powder. It was just packed ice as far as I could tell.
Hung up the deck until this year. A new job in Colorado has brought me back to the mountains. Now I just have to wait for winter...