Sleigh Riding

I don't know if the winters were worse when I was growing up or if I just vividly remember each day of a couple of bad winters, but I sure have some great memories of sleigh riding in our town.  As soon as the snow would start falling I would drag the sled out of the basement and my dad and I would start "waxing the runners".  I would apply paraffin wax to the metal sled runners with one eye on the mounting snowfall outside.  As soon as the ground was covered we were heading for the hills.

Hills weren't too hard to find in our little town.  In fact, one of the best sledding hills was on our street.  No one salted and plowed the streets then like they do now, so the side streets would soon be covered and packed to Olympic smoothness.  Late in the afternoon and early evening the kids and teens would start to gather.  Before long the hill was resounding with squeals and laughter as the sleds tore down the slick surface.  The parents would ride with the little kids to help steer the sled (and for the plain old fun of it!).  The teens would challenge each other to see who could go the farthest (or with the most bodies on a sled).  Couples would sneak a chance to snuggle a little as they trudged back up the hill with their sleds. 

We were fortunate enough to have parents that aided and abetted our schemes and foolishness.  If the weather were cold they would gather wood and build a bonfire at the top of the hill.  The house on the corner had a graveled pull-off that made a perfect spot to gather.  I remember one frigid winter when the snow on the road became powdery from all the traffic through that day.  The sledding for that night was ruined since the sled runners would cut through the powder to the pavement.  My best friend's dad, the local dentist, had a house about the middle of the hill.  We all looked up in amazement when he appeared in his drive unrolling a coil of water hose.  He calmly handed the nozzle to one of the boys and went back to the house to turn on the water.  By nightfall the hill was one huge sheet of ice.  Soon the sleds were reaching breath-taking speeds as they whizzed down the hill.  No one was killed although a few of the girls proclaimed injuries that required the guys to help them back up the hill.  They usually were much better by the time their turn to sled down the hill came again.

When everyone got chilled and needed to warm up our house was the spot to go to.  My mom would make a huge pot of chili and hot chocolate, which she would keep warm during the night.  When you reached the freezing point, you would ride a sled to the bottom of the hill and walk two houses to our place.  My dad would usually have a fire in the fireplace in the basement, so we would all gather there to eat chili and toast marshmallows.  Since our basement was just a concrete floor with concrete block walls (no fancy carpet, paneling and drywall) furnished with whatever furniture daddy couldn't sell in his used furniture store, it was a teenagers heaven.  We could pile in with our snow covered clothes and warm up without a mother having a breakdown.

It seems like we must have had some really bad winters, because we sure created a lot of really great memories.