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no aT a I I rT a 8 -- PORT PERRY STAR -- Tuesday, January 7, 1986 Searching for the ultimate thrills / > t re , ad Fd % he SR """Geeze, this jump was higher than | thought," says this youngster as he steers for dear! life. ay oe Grinning all the way, a young hot dogger takes the icy jump in stride. by Cathy Robb It's the last Friday of Christmas holidays before school starts again and there's at least three inches of new powder on the high school hill. Your mother forces you to stick a touque on your head as you rush out the door, and for- once you don't ~ mind™-her domestic attentions because you know how cold you're going to be after wiping out a cou- ple of times. The trip to the hill is a long one, or so it seems, dressed like Charlie Brown in your snow suit. By the time you reach the crest you're huf- fing like an old horse, but you're too excited to notice, or care. The hill seems like a mountain from this angle and you eye it like the seasoned tobogganer you are. The questions reel through your head almost as quickly as the answers come back. Where's the best spot on the hill? How can I avoid other tobogganers? How can I get the most thrill? And will I manage to stop before I slide onto the road? When you've figured out the best route, you prepare yourself for the first trip. Your mittens are secure, your sled's in first-class working order -- you make sure the rope at the front is inside and not outside the sled, where it would be sure to slow you down. You ease yourself into a prone position, your face mere inches from snow, and begin the launch, mittened hands pushing first gent- ly and then hard into the packed snow. The ride is slow for the initial few seconds, but as you cross the point of no return the sled picks up in- credible speed and you catch your breath as you swallow the scream that builds in your throat. Zipping across the snow surface, feeling like you're flying through air, you zoom towards the bottom, blinded by the white powder that's tossed into your wet face. Exhilera- tion mainlines into your blood and you shriek in spite of yourself, a lus- ty yell that echoes into the valley. The end aproaches all too soon and you realize you'd better slap the brakes on before you slide onto the road. Your brakes are your hands and feet and you dig them into the ground, harrowing ruts into the ~ snow like a farmer in the spring. The braking is too sudden, though, and suddenly you're thrown into the SPLAT! A trio of sledders arrive at the bot- air, head-first, yowling all the way, tumbling like a circus acrobat and c bling at the bottom in what fe€ls like a million pieces. You open your eyes and watch as your sled drifts inches from your nose. You test your legs. Not broken. "You okay?' your buddy at the top of the hill calls down. "A-1"" you scream back, and scramble to your feet to meet the hill once again, a grudge-match challenge that you have to win this time around. You do, of course, and the rest of the day is smooth sailing. A tom of the hill in a cloud of snow. a . gp PI ARS LC re Rs: I