Snow Disking

I've got to say that after today I feel much better about myself.
I've always thought that the love of playing that we had as kids is something everyone should desperately hold onto for the duration of their lives. Its such an ideal that, if anything, we should become better and better at play as we get older. So, even though I was tired and grumpy crawling out of bed at 7:30 a.m. on my day off, I'm glad I did. Jennifer and I met up with my friend Travis, his wife, and kid to go sledding on Simplot hill.
Before the event, there was some business involving the aquisition of sleds which Fern and I had to attend to. We walked through the aisles of Walmart and Fred Meyers scoffing at the idea of sledding down a piece of property that most likely would have no more than a skiff of snow blanketing its supple grass. We rolled our eyes at the cost of a "Wammo!" sled. $7.00? That's crazy! We laughed at the proposition of sliding down Simplot hill on a four dollar piece of blue plastic that looked like it could double as a cutting board.
Well, visiting two superstores on a Saturday morning was plenty for us-nothing's worse than spending hours traveling from store to store in search of something as uninspiring as the perfect piece of plastic with handles. We each ended up buying old fashioned concave disk sleds. Not quite the classic American Flyer or the state of the art "Wammo!", but comforting in their familiarity, being a type of sled I used as a kid. (other childhood sleds are: collapsed refrigerator box and large blue tarp. the rich kids had intertubes.).
A winter miracle was in progress as we made our way to Simplot hill. Snow was falling and sticking. By the time we made it to our playground, the snow coating the hill surrounding the Governor's Mansion was at a measureable depth. Not a skiff, not a trace, but a good 1/4 inch! And kids were sledding all over the place. We spotted Travis and Co., said hi, and proceeded to trudge our way skyward.
My skepticism regarding the functionality of my sled over shallow snow and grass went poof! as soon as I sat on the disk. I instantly took off down the hill. Being several years out of practice, I was unable to pilot my disk in a forward-facing trajectory, and spiraled backwards. If there was a little tike in front of my path, he was mashed potatoes. There was no kid but rather a hole in the ground that snatched my disk from underneath me and sent me sprawling. Ahh, the joy of lying in the snow, warm as a bug in a rug, breathing hard from exhiliration. And that's how the fun began and how it would continue for an hour and a half.
I fell all over the place this morning. Just like a kid would. And I'm 30 freaking years old. I didn't break a bone or pull a muscle. That's one reason I feel better about myself. Its good to know I can fall and tumble around like I used to, with minimal bodily damage. Another reason I feel better is because I managed to loose sense of my age almost altogether. The stupid stuff that adults seem to care about--not looking silly, wearing only name-brand winter gear, engaging only in adult recreation, not expressing too much enthusiasm for child-like activities--were no concerns of mine. I consider this fact a sign of maturity.
Oh, right. I did invent a new sport today. What you do is stand up on your disk and slide down the hill. You try not to fall over. Its a blast. I've already got plans to modify the disk into a longer, leaner, board like shape, and place foot straps on it in order to gain greater control. I don't know, I think it might catch on.