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Big Hills, Big Fun
By Sarah Breeyear Hyde
Managing Editor & Director of Photography
The Tornado, The Tiger, The Flexible Flyer. The names of these sleds bring to mind the fierce fun that sledding in New England brings to those who are tough enough to take on the slopes. New Englanders of all ages have experienced the joy of sledding at one time or another-it's almost impossible not to.
The smooth, sparkling-white hills beckon to young children out of school, which makes “snow days" so precious. Kids grab their red plastic saucers, their bright orange toboggans, or their round snow tubes and run screaming for the nearest hill. The best part is seeing rosy red cheeks and glowing eyes as they come stomping into the house covered in bits of snow and smelling of fresh, cool air.
Thanks to the New England landscape, one can find a perfect sledding hill in almost any of the six states.
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| The author zipping happily down a hill near her granparents' home. | Vermont has various landscapes within its borders-I grew up in an island farming community near Lake Champlain where the land is very flat. My family and I would always travel to my grandmother's, where there are snow-capped mountains and prime sledding locations, to go sledding.
While her large garden that once flourished in the summertime was covered under feet of snow, my big sister and I would forget veggies ever existed there as we hurtled down the hill behind the barn with our grandfather, screaming at the top of our lungs. We would land in a heap at the bottom of the hill laughing and out of breath.
Boy, the walk back up was hard, but the immense joy of flying on a white cloud of snow made us forget our burning leg muscles.
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| The author trying her luck on a "Jack Jumper." |
My silliest memory of time spent sledding at my Grandma's was when she brought out this curious, old-fashioned contraption that looked like a ski with a seat on it.
It was called the "Jack Jumper" and it is a balancing act requiring considerable physical dexterity. My sister and I would try to ride it, and end up flailing our arms around for a few seconds before toppling over sideways ear-to-snow.
Grandma was the only one who could stay on long enough to go more than a couple feet, and to this day, I am sure she could still beat all of us at it. I must say it added spice to the usual routine of sledding on regular old toboggans!
My husband and I often take his brother out behind my in-laws house in Stowe, Vermont and laugh the day away careening and sliding down the trail as our gleeful whoops echo through the trees.
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| The author riding with her grandfather and her older sister, Betsy |
We worked hard moving the dead branches and rocks because we knew it'd pay off as a smooth ride in a few months. It was hard to imagine then that the beautiful red and orange leaves overhead would give way to bare branches and blankets of snow, but, as scheduled, it followed a month later, and we having been enjoying it ever since.
The most daring hill in Stowe is by the elementary school. Its deep slope sends you flying about as far as half a football field. We've seen pro-sledders trying their skill at this hill-goggles on, sled luges ready. Small children in their snowsuits gape as the lugers whiz past like human bullets. We, too, are jealous of their speed, but would rather be on our trusty familiar sleds that go at a slower clip.
We adults who like to find free winter fun know that sledding is the most fun. One is never too old to hop on their favorite old speeder and zoom their way down a snow-covered hill.
I encourage those of you planning a trip to New England to seek out the local sledders, bundle up and join in or enjoy watching them practice this treasured winter sport while sipping hot chocolate.
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