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Sometimes you end up doing something that brings back a lot of fond memories. A few days ago Noah (4), his Uncle Ben (16) and I (??) took Ben’s toboggan (the GT Snowracer kind with a steering wheel) down a hill. We quickly decided that a hill needs a ramp. Noah liked the ramp up until it was about a foot off the ground, and called it quits. Ben and I agreed that a ramp reaches its optimal height when you’re afraid to go over it (and just before it’s too big to slow all your momentum). That height was around two feet, with a rather sharp angle. A spectacularly bad crash (starting with a bad landing and ending with me in a snow bank) left me seeing stars for the first time in a long time and Noah rolling on the ground laughing.

That brought back memories of spending every available minute between getting off the bus and dinner time careening down hills, avoiding trees and brothers, and making the most ridiculous bobsled tracks between trees. Those were the days.

Posted in Personal.

3 Responses

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  1. mom says

    Glad you remembered those times. How is your head?? Brian ended up with a concussion one time after he and Dad landed agianst a tree!

  2. brian says

    How could I forget? I’m scarred (or is that ‘scared’? 🙂 for life.

    I can’t wait to haul my old GT out of my parent’s basement and introduce my son to tobogganing.

  3. ben says

    Mike, you leave out some important details like:
    1)You were afraid to jump over top of me while I laid under the lip of the ramp
    2)You were afraid to lay under the ramp and let me jump over you, even after I sacrificially put my life on the line for yours and noah’s enjoyment
    3)After modifications were made to the ramp to make it more interesting, you were “not going over that thing! It’s crazy!”
    On a sombre note, our snowman rapidly degenerated into the leaning tower of guelph, and by tuesday had become seven rocks, a carrot, and a scarf in the mud.

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