The term tree bashing is a bit of a dark joke, a reminder of just how dangerous a thing it is to do.

For more years than I care to remember, poltergeist-like twinges have haunted my right knee, courtesy of a large defensive tackle from Youngstown State. Then last November I made the mistake of following my snowboarder son tree-bashing in the powder. I flopped over, felt a little stabbing pain, levered myself up, and kept skiing.

Common sense ought to keep skiers from "tree bashing," the practice of heading off the course for a game of dodging trees, but some daredevils do it anyway.