Thursday, January 05, 2006

Living on the edge

Two days ago, the seven of us decided to face the cold, the snow, and most importantly, the ice. As soon as we arrived at our perilous destination, we trekked up the mountain, dragging along a long plastic sled, a wooden sled, two crazy carpets, and two circular shaped sleds.

We got to the top of the mountain and looked down. There was a steep slope which turned into flat ground at the bottom. After a good chunk of flat ground, there were small train tracks (owing to the touristy train that circles the park). Right after these tracks, however, there was a small drop, with a few boulders which led into ...

the rushing St. Lawrence river!

Yes, at the bottom of the hill, there was water and a whole lot of it.
And here we were, the seven of us, ready to take on this mean ol' hill with six of our toughest sleds.

Time for some serious sledding!

Two embarked on the long black sled, my brother took the wooden sled, my friends took the crazy carpets, and my sister and I each sat on a cookie (also known as a "flying saucer"). We held on to each other's hands and sleds. We wanted to take on this hill as a team of seven, making sure to leave no one behind. We were told to bail should one of us reach as far as the train tracks. Even though our audacious selves and the adrenaline pumping through us let us sled this close to water, we were definitely terrified of it. As any normal human being, we did not want to fall in.

As soon as the last person was ready to slide down, we slowly started moving. In no time, we gained a tremendous amount of speed, mostly due to the extremely icy hill. We barreled down the icy mountain of death, each one of us clinging onto each other. Suddenly, something terribly unexpected happened. In the midst of all of our sleds turning backwards, I was somehow flung and slingshoted away from everyone else. I was going so incredibly fast that as soon as I noticed the train tracks and the water quickly approaching, I started to panic.

I'm supposed to bail, aren't I?

Omigod, the train tracks are so close! I'm going to hit them!

But I'm going too fast to bail, maybe I should ju--


I crashed onto the train tracks! I had gone at full speed over these painful, painful tracks that had actually stopped me from going into the water. Everything had happened so fast. The pain was incredible, and for a second, I almost felt like I was going to upchuck. I stood up, felt dizzy and nauseous. I doubled over, gasping for air.

Six of my kind fellow sledders ran up to me and locked me into a warm group hug. They had seen what had happened, and boy, did it ever look like it hurt, they said to me. They were completely right.

After some empathy and a whole lot of adrenaline from the others, I slowly walked up the hill with one hand on my battered and bruised cheek and the other one carrying my killer cookie sled. The others geared up for another slide down. Unfortunately, I had to sit the next one out. Rather, I had to stand the next one out. That's how much it hurt.

The next slide down was a race. My brother took one of the killer cookies. I did the ready, get set, go part. My brother and Isaac flew down the hill, with my brother yelling, HAHA Isaac, I am beating you! Immediately after saying that he turned around to face front and was face to face with the train tracks! They had come up so quickly! With my painful moans echoeing loudly in his ear, he knew that he did not want to go over the train tracks. It was a bit late to bail at this moment, so as soon as the sled hit the tracks, he jumped high into the air and landed on one of the large rocks.

He teetered for almost a full minute on this rock, realizing how close he was to the water. He was in shock. Had he jumped one step further, he would have been in the treacherous St. Lawrence river. I stood at the top of the hill, my hand over my mouth, shocked at the dangerous encounter. Five of the other tough sledders ran to my brother and asked him if he was alright. Feverishly, he told him that he was fine, but what a crazy ride!

As soon as he reached the top, my brother told me exactly what happened. I told him what I had seen. Good thing he did not hit the train tracks, or worst, the water! This sledding was getting dangerous. There was only one thing left to do.

Again! Who wants the killer cookie this time?


Span Ows said...

I spent a year in Ontario and loved it, near London. Went canoeing in the north of the state too. A boat trip up the St. Lawrence was all I saw of Quebec....must admit to liking the west more, Jasper, Banff, Lake Louise Vancouver Island etc.

P.S....just popped in via the "next blog" button in case you were wondering.

Anonymous said...

hehehe. That was a good day

Adam Martin said...

Hhahaha....That was the most fun I've had in a looooong time. I've still got the knee scars from not wearing any snowpants on the sharp ice! I guess it's a good idea that your brother took the cookie, because I, the speed demon that I am, probably would have fallen in. I hope to go sledding again sometime! Thanks for letting the world know about our brave Canadian escapades, eh?

Zaza said...

Span ows, thanks for dropping by. Perhaps our landscapes and views cannot compare to those of Jasper and Banff, but we do have a large population of cows, as well as an infamous Chesterville snowmobiling team (that will beat Aylmer's anyday).

'Twas an excellent day. I can't remember the last time I had that much fun sledding! The water at the bottom definitely added to the thrill. You can't forget, for the next time Nitram, that snow pants are a must!