No Sliding??

What the hell is Sliding? Maybe winter revelers would respect the sign if it called the prohibited offence by the right name!

This sign is located in Chautauqua Park at the Base of the 3rd Flatiron in Boulder. All those little black dots in the background are sliders, I mean sledders. Ramine got a pair of touring skis last winter and had only used them once before our hike up to the 3rd Flatiron. In fact it was only the second time in his life he had ever worn skis! I was grossly underprepared with only a camera, no snowboard, trash can lid, sled, tarp, toboggan, shovel, kayak, pretty much anything that would get me down the hill. Ramine listened to my complaining the whole way up.




Ramine did a good job going up hill, he made good time and negotiated the obstacles on the trail well. On the way down things got a little interesting. Ramine employed a technique of crashing to slow down which was hilarious and made me forget how mad I was at not bringing anything to play with in the snow.

As we reached the bottom of the hill where the "sliders" were, Jo called and was ready for me to come pick her up. Being a diligent boyfriend I headed straight for the truck trying to avoid any distractions. As I passed the sledders I thought "Maybe I'll just see if anyone needs any help getting their sled down the hill, it shouldn't take too long"; nothing but good intentions. A bunch of college kids had built a nice kicker (jump) and had an inflatable tube to go off it with. The only person to got off it was lying face down in the snow clutching his tail bone. He went down on his butt, lost the tube in the air, and landed on his tail bone. Always up for a challenge and not wanting the kids to go home thinking they had built their jump in vane I volunteered to go from the highest point on the hill. And to make it interesting I would go down head first! A hush fell upon the crowd and you could almost hear their little conscious’s telling them not to let me go, but the desire to see me crash won out and the guy holding the tube quietly handed it to me. As I walked up to the top of the hill I felt that familiar sick feeling in my stomach (fear) as the voice of reason pleaded with me not to go. It was too late, there was no turning back. Impressing these kids, who I had never met before and would never see again, was way more important than my personal safety.

I ran and dove head first on the tube. I was stunned at how fast the tube accelerated down the hill. The advantage of going head first is you can steer by dragging your feet and once in the air push the tube out to cushion the impact. I continued to accelerate the whole way down the hill and as I neared the jump I realized I was in trouble. My speed was way to high, it was faster than I had ever been on a sled before. The jump had a lot of vert built into it and it slingshot me into the air. The upward acceleration off the lip of the jump felt amazing. I was flying, it was the same feeling I get in my hang glider as the ground falls away. Amazing, I was soaring! Alas, my joy was short lived. As I reached the apex of my arc the reality that this wouldn't last for ever set it. I was high and dry (about 10 feet). I thrusted the tube out in front of me and braced for impact. The tube and I landed like a basket ball, bouncing back into the air another 4 feet. What happened next is a blur. I rolled a couple times, but never let go of the tube. I came to rest about 20 yards below the jump still clutching the tube. I sent out feelers to my limbs and to the cheers of the crowd realized I was okay.