Toboggan

Toboggan

Now that the Holiday Season is over, I can get down to the real business of winter. There is a lot of snow shoveling, snow blowing and snow plowing to be done. Not to mention helping stranded people with jump starting dead car batteries and pulling vehicles out of ditches. And my favorite: the morning routine of brushing snow off my truck and scrapping ice off the windshield.

There are other more pleasant winter activities like downhill and cross-country skiing, ice skating and hockey. I have done all those but considering my advanced age and the advice of my doctor, I have given them up. Now my daily winter routine is walking the dog on the snow-covered sidewalks praying that I won’t slip and fall.

Recently, while talking with my brother Mike, I was reminded of toboggan days of my youth. Mike and I would head out in search for the steepest hills and dare each other to make it to the bottom without bodily injury. On one hill, we had to navigate between two trees at high speed only to run headlong into a concrete abutment. The only serious injury was to the toboggan which needed major repair.

The best sliding hill was at a nearby golf course. The second hole was a long downhill slope with a large horizontal ridge towards the bottom. My brother and I would get a running start, jump on the toboggan, duck down for less wind resistance, holding our breath as we gained speed. When we hit that ridge, we were airborne; flying through the air with the greatest of ease on that old toboggan. What a thrill that was until gravity took over and slammed us back to earth.

You don’t see many toboggans these days. It seems they have been replaced with plastic sleds and saucers. Plastic cannot compare to the sleek flat-bottomed sled made of thin hickory boards curved up on one end with low rope handrails on the side and inlaid with thin cloth bedding.

Could any winter day be better than the challenge of a steep hill, a freshly waxed toboggan, your brother as copilot on an adventure of speed, daring and adrenaline? This is the stuff that makes for stories you tell your grandchildren reminding them that you were a kid once, a long time ago.