She was in Washington, D.C., her hometown, where she worked for Apple Computer selling software. One day, sweating away on a StairMaster at the health club, she stumbled across an article about a women's snowboard camp. Thinking it sounded like a great alternative to trying to keep up with her husband, she signed up.

The experience was transformative. Though at the time, she "knew more about a briefcase than shredding," she thought running a camp like that would be the "best thing in the world."

That unlikely dream came true in January 2003, with the first installment of SheRide, a three-day women's snowboard camp at Purgatory. Now in its sixth year, SheRide has flourished and now includes two camps a year. This is how a city girl came to be a snowboard diva.

Jump into the fear

First, there was the matter of not living near the mountains. Visnich, a petite woman with a quick wit and boundless energy, said she and her husband spent years checking out different mountain towns. She was 38 when they finally settled in Durango.

She got a job teaching beginning snowboarding at Purgatory and progressively found herself "freakishly addicted to snowboarding."

In late 2002, she decided it was time to give the camp a go.

"I don't think I was advanced enough at that point to teach the most advanced riders at the camp," she recalled.

She brought in a big name pro, but later found that wasn't necessary.

"Just because you're a pro doesn't mean you know a lot about teaching," she said. "You've just got to learn to break everything way down."

Over the years, she and her coaches have become increasingly savvy teachers as they gain training and practice. But the "X" factor in the milieu is girl power.

"Whatever you call it - symbiosis? - there's so much more confidence in it," said Visnich, now 43.

I saw it firsthand during the camp's last session in January. When one of her beginning campers linked two turns together in a sweeping s-shape formation, Visnich went ballistic with glee.

"Yeah, baby! Whoa!" she cried, jumping up and down then doing a little dance.

There is constant wisecracking, some of it unrepeatable here.

"My coaches are crude, rude and socially unacceptable," Visnish told the group before heading out the first day.

Participants in the camp varied widely, ranging from teenagers to mothers of teenagers. A contingent from Phoenix included an emergency room doctor and a graphic designer, both returning for their second year.

The graphic designer, 41-year-old Amy Barrali, raved about the experience afterward.

"It was more than riding," she said from her Phoenix home. "I really got how I approach my life. I'm starting my own business, and I'm really in that place of fearing to fail," she said.

In snowboarding, fear of falling causes many learning riders to lean back on their boards, making it harder to control. Barrali - who said her goal at the camp was to go from, "Dude, who brought their mom?" to "Damn, that (babe) can ride!" - was told to jump into the fear by leaning into the pitch of the mountain.

"That's really what I should be doing with my life," she said.

Barrali said she pushed herself farther than she would have imagined and recounted a tale about "sliding the box," a trick that entails sliding flat across the top of a box in the terrain park. A member of her group, Allison Swan, a new DMR employee, had been intent on trying it.

"I was thinking, 'Are you kidding me? Are you freaking kidding me?'" she said.

Barrali and another camper, Signe Hartmann, of Denver, agreed to watch while Swan tried it. In the end, all three ended up sliding the box, and landing it.

"Talk about a victory," Barrali said, adding that she definitely plans on returning next year.

"It's my favorite thing I do all year," she said.

Rip it up

Visnich's life has taken other turns since she's been here. She earned a master's degree in clinical social work through a University of Denver distance education program and opened a private psychotherapy practice.

And, in 2005, she launched a local chapter of the Snowboard Outreach Society, a program that helps at-risk youth build character and confidence through snowboarding. Proceeds from SheRide go to benefit the youth program, which receives close to $55,000 in donated lift tickets from the resort.

Before moving here, Visnich had only dreamed about doing what she is doing.

"I just related so much to that fear-holding-you-back thing," she said.

Now, through SheRide, she gets to help other women overcome that.

"We all just want so badly to rip it up," she said.

For her campers, her zeal is contagious.

"She's amazing," Barrali said. "She's just very inspirational and motivating."

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