Then a video of central park:

 

I remember my mother asking me what I wanted for my 11th birthday- and I chose a Flexible Flyer sled which I got with a red ribbon on it-  was beautiful,  and the sled was an unbelievable $22!  Ahh, how I remember the new unmarred wood; the red lettering and the red freshly painted rails.  I felt like I got a new tank or Jeep for my birthday-  It was built to last forever- or at least one winter on Suicide Hill.

 

That sled, like so many others, eventually was eaten by Suicide Hill-  I hit a tree;  a patch of earth behind a rut (which caused an unexpected stop); or maybe it was soaked in Lake Iroquois when it became apparent that the lake wasn’t frozen.

 

I remember the goal of going down that hill was to make it to the Lake…    alive.    I remember I made it to the Lake once and I didn’t know what to do once I got there-  all I know is that I couldn’t stop and I kept going and going.

 

I also remember noting the transition from boyhood to adulthood-  boyhood you sat on the sled and steered with your feet or held on the rope-   when you reached manhood you lied on your belly and took the bumps with your body.

 

When there was an unforeseen coating of ice on the snow, it mandated an abandoned ship-  for control of the sled was gone-  you had a better chance of stopping from the friction from your clothing or body on the ice and then watch the sled go down the hill solo.

 

Sometimes walking up the hill for the next ride one could get hit from an abandoned sled going down the hill.

 

Once in awhile two fools  would go down the hill together on the same sled.   Either sitting up or lying down-  

 

Toboggan etiquette was always the same-  put the fool newbies up front.

 

I don’t remember my feet being frozen as much as getting all wet from the snow and ice.  Usually from uninvited snow that entered an open part of your coat, usually where the gloves and sleeves were suppose to meet; or an unexpected opening on your collar;  or from a disconnect between the top of your boots and your pant legging.

 

I do remember the hot chocolate at the casino tasted soooo good after some of those runs- never had such a good cup since.

 

I often wonder, would our childhood have been any different dealing with the winter with today’s new fabrics like Gortex?