Olympic Style Sledding

So, it was the winter of 1978 or 79. The old man wanted to go on a road trip, and the hub bub that was building around the 1980 Winter Olympics in Lake Placid had captured his curiosity.

It didnt take much to convince any of us, at anytime, to go on a road trip. We hopped in the big boat my father was driving at the time, and set sail for the Adirondacks of New York.

The 90 meter ski jump pierced the sky. The awe of such a structure captured the attention of us hillbillies who had never even seen a skyscraper before.

We drove into the lower parkinglot and hiked up to this mammoth structure. We stood ourselves firmly in front the fence that stopped Olympic skiers from leaving the park.

Silence and amazement was interrupted by intermitten puffs of breath that we could visibly see come from our nostrils. The silent amazement seemed to last for ever.

Not one to handle silence for too long, my mind began to think of something to say. Abruptly from my lips came; "wouldn't it be cool to say we slid down the 90 meter ski jump". Doubtful to hear a yes, I was none the less fishing for a response.

It was a split decision between my mom and dad. My enthusiasm as a youth, and being my dad's only son was the tie breaker!

Mom followed my excitement, while dad scratched his head and walked back to the car for a beer, and some warmth from the car's heater.

We were going to be plenty warm as we had a steep and steady hike ahead of us. To the right was a stairway, that if I didn't know better was to Heaven.

The excitement of probably being the first people to EVER slide down this vertical drop catapulted us to the top in no time. We cared about nothing else.

There was no visible entry from the stairway. We walked around to other side, where entry to the slope was easier. Then; out of nowhere, appeared 2 pieces of carboard. It was as if they came down from that stairway to heaven.

The vertical drop is such, that there is no holding back once you commit yourself to this suicidal run. 

Mom opted to go first. I'm not sure if I let her go first, out of my own fear, or if I was looking for some entertainment value.

We wished each other luck and said goodbye as if we were never going to see each other again. That was almost true. Mom released her grip from the packed snow and like a rocket, mom took off down the hill. My fear of going down the hill was now turned towards my mom's safety and wellbeing. 

I let go of my grip, and like a rock in a slingshot, I was now in hot persuit of a middle aged mother who was gaining speed by the second. I tried to keep my sight on her, but my ass was pounding the hard pack so hard that my 2 eyes were seing 3 of her. The high velocity wind speed caused my eyes to water too.

I have to imagine that mom was experincing much of the same. For some reason, these sensations brought such rush over the both of us that we started laughing uncontrollably.

It seemed like split seconds and long grueling hours all at the same time. As I caught up to mom, I was able to focus long enough for the grand finale.

The speed was causing mom to skip across the bumps like a flat rock across rippled water. Mom held on valiantly, but she finally lost control and started flipping violently.

By this time she was at the slow down ramp, but there was no slowing her down. Her arms and legs were flailing out of a ball of snow that she was kicking up. Suddenly a brunette ball of hair flew out of this violent snow ball. Mom had flipped her wig! I never knew she wore a wig! I would have flipped mine too, if I had one!

The speed caught up to me as well. I lost sight of mom as I became a flailing snowball myself.

Mom stuck the landing against the snow fence, and I was right behind her. I piled into mom as we came to rest in a heap. Laughing hysterically, mom said "I think I pissed my pants" and laughed even harder. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that mom wears a wig.

As for dad; well,

by the time we got our wits about ourselves, dad was hovering over us with nearly an expression or a word.

Once he could see that we were alright he turned back to the car. Mom picked herself up and her wig too. With a chuckle she called dad an old fuddy duddy and laughed all the way back to the car.

Oh, by the way, mom really did piss her pants, and I believe we are still the only people crazy enough to have slid down the 90 meter ski jump in Lake Placid.

That's one for the record books!