Not All Sleds Are Created Equal | New England Humor
New Englanders have been sliding down snow-covered hills since our nation’s founding, but not all sleds are created equal.
By Ken Sheldon|Dec 14 2011|
Coffee By Design | Portland, Maine
Photo Credit : Katherine Keenan
New Englanders have been sliding down snow-covered hills since our nation’s founding– probably as a way to avoid real work, like clearing fields, building stone walls, and emptying the dishwasher. But not all sleds are created equal. To help you achieve the ultimate downhill slide, we’ve broken down the options.
Not All Sleds Are Created Equal | New England Humor Photo Credit : Mark Brewer
GUIDE TO SLEDS | NEW ENGLAND HUMOR
Old Faceful
Before Mustangs and Camaros, there was the Flexible Flyer, hot-rod of choice for adolescent boys. Real men rode face first, snow pummeling their faces, while lesser mortals rode sitting up, steering with their feet or the pull rope. These days, you can spend a lot of money on souped-up versions with seat backs, steering wheels, ski-type runners, and other geegaws. Don’t.
Masters of Spin
They’re called “flying saucers” because they’re fast–really fast–and provide the added benefit of making you dizzy as you spin uncontrollably down the hill. (This probably accounts for a lot of short-term memory loss among today’s adults.) The first saucers were metal, but modern versions are plastic, further proof that kids are getting soft.
Snow Wonder
A cross between a sled and a saucer, the knee sled lets you enjoy the majestic beauty of nature for the 2.3 seconds it takes to get to the bottom. You can also do fancy jumps, flips, and turns, but if the AARP is sending you invitations, don’t even think about it.
Wooden It Be Magic
The classic wooden toboggan is the Ford LTD of sledding–big, heavy, and relatively safe, unless you’re headed for a tree. Steering basically happens at the top of the hill, when you choose your route to the bottom. After that, it’s a matter of screaming “Lean!”–which, as Ethan Frome learned, rarely works. The best seat is the farthest back, where you can bail out quickly. The worst is the front seat (a.k.a. “the human shield”).
The Shovel Sled Photo Credit : Mark BrewerHandle with Care
Remember that hillside scene in It’s a Wonderful Life? Put your bottom on the shovel with the handle pointing forward, lean back, and let go. Steering, such as it is, involves using your hands as rudders. Don’t try to grab the handle unless you’ve already had all the children you want.
Totally Tubular
For sheer comfort, there’s nothing like gliding downhill on a cushion of rubberized air–until you bounce off or get poked by the valve stem. Real tire tubes (not the store-bought variety) don’t have handles, so staying on board can be a challenge, and steering is a combination of body English and wishful thinking.
Dining-Hall Dasher
A favorite with college students, the lunch tray is a thrill-seeker’s ride: fast, readily available, and nearly impossible to steer. The hard part is sneaking it out of the cafeteria, not to mention avoiding collisions with ivy-covered walls. Note: College students have also been known to go sledding on trash bags, shower curtains, garbage-can lids, and art-history textbooks.
Corrugated Coaster
For the consummate cheapskate, nothing beats a big piece of cardboard. On well-packed, dry snow, a homemade cardboard sled can give you several good runs before it turns into a wad of soggy cellulose. On loose, damp snow, though, cardboard is a no-go.
The Inflatable Plastic Sled Photo Credit : Mark BrewerA Leak of Your Own
Somebody thought plastic inflatable sleds were a good idea–probably the same person who invented those singing-fish wall plaques. Designed to look cool, most of these dirigibles have the aerodynamic efficiency of an eggplant … except that eggplants don’t spring a leak if you go over a rock. Leave the blow-up toys at the beach.
Bottom Rockets
Somewhat related to the shovel-sled (second cousins, mother’s side), these plastic contraptions are like hard hats for your butt. They range from form-fitting to paddle-shaped, and one version is actually built into a pair of slip-on shorts. Go figure.
Chariots of Fiberglass
Modern variations on the toboggan tend to be smaller, one-person affairs made of the same material found in food-storage containers (polywolyvinylfredandethylchloride), and they’re just about as sturdy. Caveat vector. (“Let the passenger beware.”)
Slip-Sliding Away
The flexible plastic roll-up sled was designed for cheapness and portability, not speed or control. Sure, it slides fairly well, but so do you–right off the sheet. On the other hand, you can always chop vegetables on it.
Loved it! I grew up in WVa when it used to snow feet not inches. My
old boyfriend and I found a refrigerator box outside the old appliance store and rode it for hours on the hills of the old country club. Until we literally sled into a stairwell! It was so much fun and this article brings back lots of great memories of sledding with my friends on my old flexible flyer down Wagner Road, which the city used to block off for us. A simpler life for sure.
I grew up in Quincy, MA and the city would close off some streets just for the neighborhood kids to go sliding. Obviously a long time ago when people were more accepting and in less of a rush to get someplace. I think we must have tried just about all the transports mentioned in the article, except the store-bought plastic ones. And I never have had as much fun since. Taking a toboggan to a local golf club (after dark when it was supposed to be closed) and nearly wiping us all out … including some trees. This article was superb, thanks for sharing.
I grew up many years ago in a tiny village in New Hampshire. One day in the early 50s after deep winter cold spell, we had a freezing rain that left a half-inch of ice on the pavement. No vehicles ventured forth, but every kid with a sled hit the streets (there were only two). From my abode, you could go for more than a half mile down a steep hill, into a small valley and up the other side as far as the considerable velocity would carry you. Walk a bit higher (off the road), turn around and do the whole thing over again. That was the finest sledding I can recall. There were no ‘snow days’ back then and we never knew whether school had opened or not, and frankly my dear we didn’t give a damn.
Loved it! I grew up in WVa when it used to snow feet not inches. My
old boyfriend and I found a refrigerator box outside the old appliance store and rode it for hours on the hills of the old country club. Until we literally sled into a stairwell! It was so much fun and this article brings back lots of great memories of sledding with my friends on my old flexible flyer down Wagner Road, which the city used to block off for us. A simpler life for sure.
I grew up in Quincy, MA and the city would close off some streets just for the neighborhood kids to go sliding. Obviously a long time ago when people were more accepting and in less of a rush to get someplace. I think we must have tried just about all the transports mentioned in the article, except the store-bought plastic ones. And I never have had as much fun since. Taking a toboggan to a local golf club (after dark when it was supposed to be closed) and nearly wiping us all out … including some trees. This article was superb, thanks for sharing.
I grew up many years ago in a tiny village in New Hampshire. One day in the early 50s after deep winter cold spell, we had a freezing rain that left a half-inch of ice on the pavement. No vehicles ventured forth, but every kid with a sled hit the streets (there were only two). From my abode, you could go for more than a half mile down a steep hill, into a small valley and up the other side as far as the considerable velocity would carry you. Walk a bit higher (off the road), turn around and do the whole thing over again. That was the finest sledding I can recall. There were no ‘snow days’ back then and we never knew whether school had opened or not, and frankly my dear we didn’t give a damn.