Apparently this is the thing to do. I was skeptical going in. I’d heard comparisons to dune boarding, and after seeing enough photos of chipped teeth to make a dentist contemplate a summer home, my expectations were… cautious.

But volcano boarding turned out to be something else entirely.

The morning starts with a climb straight up the volcano. Nothing technical, about an hour to ninety minutes, but exposed, dusty, and relentlessly windy at the top. If you dig your hand into the ash near the summit, the ground is still hot. Not metaphorically hot. Actually hot. It’s a subtle reminder that this mountain is very much alive.

At the peak, they suit you up in what can only be described as a painter’s onesie: thick one size fits all fabric, helmet, goggles. The “sled” is a glorified plank of wood with a rope tied to it. That’s it. No brakes. No steering. Just gravity and a steep, black slope of volcanic ash that looks far more aggressive up close than it does in photos.

I went first. Obviously.

My only real mistake was smiling for the camera. One second later, I had a mouthful of volcanic sand and a very strong appreciation for keeping my lips sealed at high speed.

And it is fast. Controlled chaos. Loud wind, vibrating board, ash flying everywhere. You’re laughing, half screaming, half focused on not eating more volcano.

Was it fun? Absolutely. A great memory. Something I’m glad I did once.

Was it the adrenaline peak people hype it up to be? Maybe not. That might say more about my tolerance for chaos than the experience itself.

Still, sliding down an active volcano on a wooden plank isn’t exactly an average Tuesday. And for that alone, it earns its place in the travel highlight reel.

Recommended Gear: Sunglasses, buff, fearlesness!