Toboggan Ride

I was 8 years old the year us kids got a toboggan for Christmas. I could hardly believe our good fortune. Up until then, we rode sleds and plastic saucers on the snow banks that Dad made for us with the tractor.

The snow was continually filling up the driveway and Dad used the front bucket of the tractor to move the snow out of the driveway and up onto a big pile. We could even get in a few runs while waiting for the school bus to come in the morning.

But seeing that big long toboggan leaning against the wall behind the Christmas tree represented the next level in sledding to us. We really could not wait to use it. It was almost half a mile down our road to a really high hill that we called Lookout Hill. We had never slid down it before because sleds can’t do deep, fluffy snow, but we often talked about what a great ride that would be. Now we had a toboggan to try it!

Mom made sure every one of us kids were into snow pants, hats, gloves, boots, scarves and coats. We all tumbled outside, barely able to walk because of all the clothes. Conversation was consumed with who got to ride in the front, etc. The toboggan was about eight feet long and each one of us fully expected to be on that first ride.

It took quite a while to walk all the way to the hill. Then we had to cross the field through fresh, fluffy snow, which makes walking difficult. Each step sinks in causing you to step high to clear the deep snow. It was exhausting. Northern Michigan can really accumulate deep snow. But, we kept climbing up, pulling the toboggan behind.

We were so cold and tired when we finally got to the top. There were five of us kids and at some point in our long trek we had worked out the order we would sit on the toboggan. We then aimed the toboggan at a course straight down the hill that would avoid the hundreds of little pine trees between us and the road.

The toboggan had a rope tied to each side of the curved front piece and continued down each side the full length. We had the steering all figured out and we planned to hang tight to the ropes on each side. One of my brothers would steer, which was the front spot. Another brother would push off and leap onto the back of the toboggan at the last moment.

We all lined up on the toboggan, sitting with each of us straddling the person in front of us and firmly gripping the rope line on each side. Then my brother gave us all a mighty shove and leaped onto the back. What happened next is difficult to describe.

That toboggan went so fast and none of us was prepared for the snow that pelted at our faces. It was like a driving blizzard and seemed like we were going fifty mile an hour into it. Exhilarating! Terrifying! It took no time to totally lose control of the ride. Our eyes were covered with snow and we could not see where we were going. We careened way off course, but still continued to fly down that hill at breathtaking speed.

A toboggan is a lot faster than a sled because it doesn’t sink in, but slides along the top of the snow. Even fully loaded, that toboggan and its cargo was a runaway. I would have screamed, but could not even draw breath. It was inevitable that eventually we tipped over, in unison, like a log, all together. As soon as we hit the snow we were thrown in all directions and buried deep.

The snow was pushed down our necks, up our sleeves and even into our waistbands and pant legs. What a disastrous ending. We pulled ourselves out of the snow, looking for missing hats and mittens, while scraping the snow off our faces. It was very cold with a stiff wind freezing our tears and eyelashes together.

It never crossed anyone’s mind to go up to try that again. We suddenly wanted only to go home. It was a long, cold, miserable trudge back through the field of deep snow. When we reached the road, we put the younger kids on the toboggan and took turns pulling it all home.

We were all really cold and shivering by the time we finally got back to the house. Our parents helped peel off our outer clothes and we crowded close the fire to thaw out. All of us were talking at once, telling every detail of that harrowing, terrifying ride down the hill from our own individual perspectives. Mom said she was surprised that we only went down the hill once. She should have been there, then she would have understood.

It was then that I noticed my toes hurting. The ends of each one of them had swelled up to the size of big peas in the heat of the fire. My skin was stretched so tight and painful that I cried. It was explained to me that warming up freezing fingers or toes too fast is a mistake, so I pulled back from the fire – but still feeling cold to my core.

It was quite a while before we warmed up and calmed down. We never ever wanted to go down that hill again, especially on a toboggan. However, the toboggan did get a lot of use ferrying groceries in from the car, or carrying bales of hay, and even short rides down the snow piles that Dad made with the tractor, but never again down Lookout Hill.

Anticipating an experience and experiencing that experience are totally different things. In this case, the anticipation was a lot more fun!