Not Quite Your Olympic at 10 – Part Two

Who could be more creative than a young boy with a new toboggan and a fast hill?  Us young boys knew the thrill of the ‘perfect run’, getting some ‘air’ at the bottom of the hill over that frozen ridge.  You know the kind of experience if you’ve ever slid down a hard packed snow slope with total abandon.

That same total abandon cost me more than a few scratches from the ever alert pine saplings who didn’t move their branches away from my wild descent.  That and the hard packed mounds of snow that we used to add too much excitement to our next run.

I didn’t think those bumps where that effective at making each run a screaming success until one fateful afternoon when the awful thing happened.

For a little ten year old boy, by himself on a frosty hill, you either own the slope or it owns you.  You have to ‘know’ each bump, each slight change of grade in order to make that next exciting run.

That awful day all of these factors came into play when I was told to do the unimaginable.  I had to take my sister and our two cousins for a ‘nice fun ride’.  As a naughty little boy, full of rascal, little girls were still an alien species, especially when they dared to interfere with, ‘my hill’.

My worse fears became realized when those plucky girls weren’t fazed by my warnings of how dangerous and how fast my hill was.  Nope.  Didn’t seem to matter.  They were there for a ‘nice fun ride’ and that was that.  They sat down in a nice neat row on my toboggan and actually seemed eager for the experience.  I’d show them.  I knew which bumps to hit and how hard.  I had the recollection and bruises to prove it.

Then a miracle of sorts happened on that cold slope.  I didn’t expect anything of this magnitude.  Never even crossed my deceitful mind.  I found out from the very start down that hill.  Girls scream when they’re having fun.  Not a little – but a lot!

Well, this was indeed good news and became an instant game changer.  Now I wanted to give them the full Olympic moment, not for me, of course, but to help them wake up the heavens with delirious screams of joy.

They obliged me with every bump and bit of speed I could produce out of my heavily loaded sled.  I looked back of quick glance to see three sets of hands hanging on for dear life and three sets of wide open mouths of pure screams of joy.

On the long trip back up the hill, I encouraged them to go again, even helping them back up the hill like a human tow rope.  I don’t recollect how many trips we took down that snowy slope, but it didn’t matter for I had my discovery.  After they went back to the house for cold, I took one last victory run – down the slope, over each bump, picked up some ‘air’, passed through the prickly reeds, nothing but frozen pond!


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