A winter Story

Day 5,492, 10:54 • Published in Canada Canada • by Wilhem Klink

Three times the end of the world was upon us.
Three times the world didn’t, at least as far as I can tell, end.

1987 - Harmonic Convergence

Bunch of damn hippies

1999 - Year Y2K

Not one exploding ATM. Not one.

2012 - Revenge of the Mayans - or something like that

Perhaps "Doomsday" means something different in the Mayan language?

But there was another cataclysmic day I barely survived.
One Christmas Santa brought my family a toboggan: six feet of red oak, fully roped with a cushion. My older brother and I knew where we could sled this sweet ride. Not that far from our house sat a small hill. One side had a long, easy, broad slope where one had lots of space to move back and forth. That wasn't the side we were going to. The other side of the hill sat The Snake.

The snake was narrow, winding, and steep. Speed was the currency of The Snake. It took skill, some strength, courage, and some lack of self-preservation to attempt the snake. Last winter, the kid from down the block failed to make a turn, got separated from his sled, and ended up separating his shoulder.
Fun right up until the end

Our parents told us to not sled The Snake, but that was LAST winter. Surely that expired over the summer, right? We could check, but we just assumed our version was right. It certainly seemed logical. Over the hill we went with my older brother pulling our new wooden togabban and me with a cheap plastic disk sled

Sled version of a death trap

Standing at the top of The Snake, it looked so steep. Some kid had already wiped out and was trying to get all the snow out of his clothes. My older brother turns to me and says "You can't sled The Snake. Its too dangerous for you" and then proceeds to take the wooden toboggan down the The Snake.

Not "Its too dangerous", but "Its too dangerous for you". And then he leaves.

Suck it monkey, I'm going down. Obviously I'm not getting the real wooden toboggan. Clearly I was promised I could ride the real wooden toboggan, but anyone with an older brother knows how those "promises" play out when the parents aren't there.

My only choice (well, I clearly had several legitimate choices, but the only one the 9-year old me cared about) was take on The Snake with the cheap plastic sled.

Down I went. This was going to be glorious! People would tell the tale of the little kid who rode The Snake on a unsteerable $1.99 plastic disk. My brother would grovel. I picked up speed quickly. I leaned into the first curve on The Snake, the sled rumbling with the ice & snow, snow spraying my face. I was too wide, I needed to lean in more. The bumps hit hard, the little dissk getting air and slamming back into The Snake. I thought "God gawd, this was a bad idea. I would like to stop now."

The Snake makes no bargains.

Overcorrecting the first turn, I went off the side probably earlier than any other kid ever did. Blinded by snow I lost the sled, a boot, and dignity. I went back home a mess. And lost my sledding privileges the rest of that winter.

We moved away that summer so I never got a shot at redemption.

I love sledding with my kids. A couple of Christmases ago I got them a real wooden toboggan. We don't have any dangerous hills about, though. Shame really.