Many eons ago someone in northern Canada tripped and fell on a log on a snowy hillside and rode the darn thing down — where he crashed into a boulder, was flung into the air, flipped over 11 times and landed in a fir tree next to a forever traumatized pair of eagle chicks. He lived to tell the tale and now we have toboggans and eagles are an endangered species. Coincidence? I think not. The notion of sliding down snow/ice covered hills has grown to include actual Olympic events like bobsled and luge, but the toboggan remains the grandfather of sliding devices. The picture below will help convey the simplicity and genius of the thing.
My brothers and I used to ride a toboggan down a hill on the backside of the property in Maryland. This hill had three jumps running across its face and ended on a frozen pond where the successful riders would slide gently to the other side. Yeah, sure they would. Far more likely is that the toboggan, having dislodged its passengers along the way would glide by itself across the frozen pond, chortling with glee no doubt. The riders would be snow-covered lumps sprawled haphazardly on the hillside, arms and legs akimbo. For some reason we found this activity fun, and I guess in thinking back it was that and more, three brothers in the snow. Once in a while Pop would join us as the fourth rider and I think we understood then that these times were unique and special –fleeting moments that last a lifetime; and beyond.
whoisfenton 