Two-man bobsled and Steve McQueen!

Fule for Thought

 

I hate winter, and while I’m sitting inside on this frosty Sunday, I wonder if other people are also “blue.” 

So I decided to Google this. Did you know there’s a defined condition for sadness/depression on Sundays? It’s called “Sunday Night Syndrome,” where workers depressed at the thought of the full, stressful week ahead of them. Early in my teaching, I used to get really worried the night before a school week started. Later, when we had little kids, my daughter suffered from this. The kids had a schedule so that the family dog slept in each one’s room every other night! Breanne always got stressed on Sundays, so she had to bribe her older brother, so she had Brodie every Sunday night. Her bribe was that overall Brennen would get the dog four nights, she’d get three, but one would always be a Sunday night. I wonder how many other families go through these Sunday Night Blues, and what they come up with to survive? Now to find a way to cheer up a little…

I started to think back on simpler times, growing up in the mountains of Canmore. There was a great snowmobile packed pathway that wound its way up in the hills behind our cemetery. One winter Sunday, we hiked and pulled sleds, toboggans, and Krazy Karpets. After a couple of hours trekking up the tracks, we’d chug back hot chocolate we brought, and be ready to fly back down. These were epic trips, because the ride back down was incredibly steep in places and very fast.

We were ready to race down, and Dave hopped on his “Krazy Karpet.” 

This was basically a flat piece of plastic, with a handle cut in it. Someone made a whack of money selling these to kids … there was no brake, you were a Kamikaze tobogganer! Kirk and I should have waited longer before we hopped on our wooden toboggan to follow. We had waxed this wooden baby so that the bottom of it shone in the winter light. I was like the bobsleigh driver – Kirk rode right behind me. We were the 1972 Bobsleigh racers, and this was the Sapporo Olympics. With a good, solid push off, we were sliding down the twists and turns of the hilly track. The waxed toboggan, our combined weight, and our aggressive forward lean, had us really moving. Suddenly, the thought hit us, that this wasn’t an ordinary race down the hills. Oh no, we had a great chance to catch Dave before we made it all the way down! Steering with the ropes of the toboggan, I could keep us flying down this banked track way faster than ever before. This was not to be a good thing for Dave.

In what was only a few speedy moments, we spied Dave ahead of us. It was sad and hilarious to know we would pass him. But, if you know 12 year old boys, and may have read Lord of the Flies, beating Dave was now not the only thing we wanted. What was the thrill of merely passing Dave? We began to yell what must have sounded like primitive war cries, because a panicked Dave began to look back every couple of seconds as we were thundering down behind him! He had two options as I steered us directly behind him: he could bail out and crash, or he could try and outrun us. In 1972 Canmore, no one bailed out, that would be “chicken,” and no one wanted to be a chicken! It was a chase scene like in the movies! We flew up behind him, and I laughed out loud as we slid right over him! We could actually hear his head hitting the bottom of our wooden beast!

Kirk and I looked back to see a crumpled body sliding half on, half off the Krazy Karpet. One of Dave’s hands still gripped the Karpet handle, while his other held the side of his head … it was a sight to see! This was my first lesson in distracted driving … I had taken my eyes off the track! I saw a lot of white and evergreens as we launched off the track and into the air. You can’t steer a toboggan in the air, and we flew! Into the snowy trees we roared, and crashed through the branches of a big Spruce tree, deep into snow! We had hit nose first, so we were embedded in the powder! My face was covered, I had snow in my mouth, nose, and ears. Somehow, Kirk had been ejected, and he lay in the snow just ahead of me! Once we got our bearings, we remembered Dave. He was back on his feet running and swearing at us! His anger changed to laughter, as he saw our own crash site. We were freezing blobs of snow and ice, but it was worth it to have run over Dave. However, I learned to always keep my eyes on the “road” at all times. If only we had cell phones in 1972, I’d have gotten a great video of that “Bullitt like” chase scene! Thanks Steve McQueen! 

 

(“Fule for Thought” is a slice of life humourous column that appears in the Strathmore Times, written by long-time resident, town councillor, high school teacher, coach, husband and father of two – Pat Fule. If you would like to get in touch with Pat, you can send him an e-mail at Pat.fule@shaw.ca)