Winter Olympics

The other day my family, some friends, and I went sledding. We happen to be blessed this year with more snow than average [insert requisite global warming joke here] and the kids got new sleds from their grandparents for Christmas. We put three and two together, plus one and one... and one more - three new sleds, two kids, one runner sled, an overweight dad, and one other sled that kinda sucks.

We decided to try a new hill that we had heard local college kids talk about being pretty fun. This hill was good sized and looked like the main runs ran out into a field like area. Safe and ok. Little did we know this hill had a danger cloaking device activated.

There were two main runs with jumps at the end that looked advanced. The other half of the hill looked safer - no apparent jumps. The first kid we saw run a few steps, jump on his sled with a "whoop!", and shoot down to the end. No big deal, but it looked a little quick. One of our kids went on their first try. Screaming all the way down. A couple minor bumps that knocked the wind out of them in such a way that they sounded like a vice was squeezing their torso "eeeeeee-EEEEE-eeeee-OOOOO-oooooo....".

Wow that looked dangerous. And fast.

I stood there next to my runner sled. Just watching. It was my Grandpa's sled from when he was a kid. This thing was built back when they used real materials. It weighs more than a Hyundai. The runners end like spikes. I can jam it into the snow upright and it will stand on its own. I stood there next to my sled watching kids scream all the way down the hill.

Apparently I had arrived about 45 minutes before my courage. I stood there almost an hour before I considered making my first run.

Now there were some bad spots to watch out for. First, the hill tilts slightly to the right. Staying in your run lane was a bit of a challenge for the other sleds. Mine had steerable rails. Advantage: me. There are a few jumps, a tree/bush with a 3 inch trunk that will probably kill you if you run into it, and a big stack of railroad ties that would definitely kill you if you ran into it. Again, I had steerable rails. Advantage: me. I also had experience in my side. I grew up in Alaska, after all. If sledding were an Olympic sport... well, I wouldn't have made the team, but I would have been qualified to try. Advantage: me.

Since my courage had shown up and my good sense wouldn't arrive for another hour, there was nothing holding me back.

Off I went.

I could now see through the danger cloaking device of the hill. The first part goes straight down - to build maximum killing speed, of course. Then there are the jumps to avoid. "First, go right," I thought, "to avoid the jumps," which I had already passed in stage one of my jump to light speed. I was now on track for the jump on the right! "Left, left, left, more left, whoop, leftleftleftleftleft!" I missed the jump on the right and was curving enough left to miss the tree, and the ditch just left of the tree (where did that come from?!?! I could have died in that thing!). Then, just like that, the danger was over.

Most of the tracks ended there. I was breaking new sledding ground! I aimed for the only place there wasn't a foot of fresh snow - the walking trail approaching the area from the East. I ran on that until all momentum left my sled and me. I had nearly added a third to what appeared to be the longest run by anyone to date. It felt like the whole ordeal took about 5 seconds. I must have hit 60 miles per hour. I was the conquering champion of the whole hill! Woooo-Hooo!!!

My wife managed to capture the whole thing on video. There must be a reality distortion field to accompany the danger cloaking device on the hill because it looked pretty tame from the sidelines.

I guess that's the way it usually goes with life. It never looks as difficult as it is - at least for me, anyway.

Maybe sometime I'll tell the story of how my daughter thought my runs looked easy and decided to try the runner sled herself. Her first run made me a little nervous, but she did quite well - even with a small jump or two she couldn't avoid. On her second run, she never quite got on the right path. Most of us adults thought she would be maimed beyond recognition by the tree. My wife was already planning the funeral service for our dear departed in her head.

She survived. Kids are more durable than adults.

Fun times.