G
gladtobefound
Guest
I was blessed with living in Traverse City in beautiful Northwestern Michigan for a year or so with my kids. My son and I went sledding on this 1000ft, very steep hill, so steep that every 100, I mean 10 ft. or so you’d have to stop for a few minutes to catch your breath…and too the fact that the trudging upward was through a foot or so of snow. And every 100ft, dad said, “Are you sure this is the hill you and the kids around here sled down?” I remember thinking to myself I can’t even hardly climb this thing without putting my hands on the hill in front of me and climbing kinda on all fours to prevent sliding backwards …or grabbing on to a tree. My son having about a 2ft lower center of gravity than 6ft 2 dad climbed the thing with just his feet… another 100 ft, “Are you sure this is the hill…?” I didn't want to chicken out but rather was thinking this just can’t be the hill, this hill is almost straight down and where’s the clearing enough through all these trees? Another 100ft…looking even farther almost straight down, hill steeper and steeper, trees closer and closer together. “ Are you really sure this is the hill, cuz there’s just no way…Dad, “We sled down this all the time.” … so finally we reach the top. There is no way anyone sleds through trees that there is no straight enough line through, and straight down. But he’s a smart kid and he goes sledding down here all the time… I don’t even know if it was even after the first 100 ft or so and at 100mph, well maybe 20 or 30mph…and I don’t know if we hit a rock or stump or something or that you can’t sled STRAIGHT down and not go flying out of a sled like 5 seconds after starting. We both went flying out of the sled, good thing too cuz it was either that or hitting a tree farther down at 200mph. I suddenly went tumbling very fast (and it smarted just a little) and I kept trying to yell, “hey you alright” scared for my boy as I didn’t know how he was faring…trying to yell as my face was coming into contact with a different part of the ground 12 inches below the uncushioning (is that a word?) snow every second in a different spot down the hill at 85 mph. When I came to a stop being scared about him being ok, I hurriedly looked all around. There he was; he had stopped farther up…banged up for sure, but there he was. “I don’t know we must sled farther over on the hill,” he says limping down toward me and saying such to me nonchalantly. After so many assurances and dad in near disrepair…”this must not be the spot on the hill,” he says. I actually thought it pretty cool him saying that and the way he said it. What seemed like to me an adventure for National Geographic Magazine, just another day in the life of a boy. I’ll take eight more (children) if so blessed, yes what a blessing that would be.
