As the humble editor and husband of the Founder of Empowered by Play – and joined by our inspired twin sons (who turned 7 years old this weekend), we are honored – nay, privileged – to offer a guest blog. Since winter is in [...]]]> Today’s post is written by dad and guest blogger, Mike McLaughlin.

As the humble editor and husband of the Founder of Empowered by Play – and joined by our inspired twin sons (who turned 7 years old this weekend), we are honored – nay, privileged – to offer a guest blog. Since winter is in full swing and we’ve had a LOT of snow, with the promise of more to come, it’s only fitting that we offer here our report on sledding.

This is significant for me because as a boy I did plenty of sledding every winter for many years, as did most of the kids in my family and in our neighborhood. My all time favorite sled was the classic Flexible Flyer model, made of sturdy, narrow wood panels arranged on top of two metal runners. The neatest thing about the sled was the steering: it had a horizontal bar up front that you could shift with your hands, or, if your were sitting up, with your feet. But I grew older, and I stopped doing it, alas. I really don’t know why…and then the years began slipping by, faster and faster. Parenthood, thank goodness, allows you the perfect reason to get back in the game!

Bundled up in multiple layers of winter gear (since the day was windy with temperatures in the teens), we loaded the very speedy blue flying saucer type sleds in the back of the car, plus two of the slower yet reliable red rectangular models, then set out for the local public golf course.

The guys and I parked at the top of a steep hill, whose far crest began a gentle descent, parallel to the road. There were easily fifty people there already, families of all ages. Most – but not all! – of the adults were as gung-ho as their children. And there were all kinds of vehicles in motion: classic wooden toboggans, at least one Flexible Flyer, and many flying saucer types, as well as some that looked more like surfboard with frictionless bottoms, guaranteeing high speed (if little else!).

What was unique about this hill was that, the farther along the crest you move, the shallower the perpendicular slopes became. That is, the drop down to the east right at the parking area guaranteed the fastest – and scariest ride. But if you walked fifty yards north, you could be sure of a safer, milder descent.

To my amazement, the boys immediately wanted to tackle the first slope. With the reserve of a man who won’t see age 40 again – and who had back surgery a few years ago – I tried to suggest that we start at the far end of the crest and gain some experience, and work our way up to the tougher stuff. Nothing doing! The boys were all for the trying the biggest first. So I gritted my teeth and nodded my head…as I know my own father did many, many times over the years, whenever I’d settle out to tackle my own mountains.

The toughest slope of all drops down at about a forty degree angle, then levels off on a path about six feet wide, then drops even more steeply afterward, down an even longer slope and then hitting the equivalent of a ski jump, maybe two feet high – all snow – but one which gives a good launch to any sledder still in control of his vehicle. Several kids from grammar school to high school age were rocketing down this particularly daunting mountain – and our guys were eager to be next.

And so they went. And they did very well, making about two-thirds of the way down before finally hitting a bump that unseated them, to put it mildly. Each wound up with a faceful of snow, and some bruised feelings. And each then got back and vowed to do it again.  I was amazed, and awed. It was definitely one of those moments that defines a parent: you want to protect your children, but at the same time, you want them to embrace the challenges of life. Conflicting feelings, indeed…because so often the challenges are rougher than they seem.

Both boys managed to complete the descent at least once while staying in control of their sleds. But one of the guys got a bloody nose after a second spill, and each of them bumped an arm or a leg during a stuntman roll off their vehicles. The problem was more the speed they were going than the descent itself, and I strongly recommended we move farther up the crest and trying the milder slopes. This time they agreed.

These other slopes guaranteed great rides, and because so many other families had been there already, the paths were flat and smooth. And the funny thing was that the rides all of us made down would have seemed wild enough if we had started there – but felt easy since the guys had gotten Mount Everest out of the way first. We stayed about an hour, and would’ve lasted longer but the wind and the cold were too much. But we returned the next day – and the boys went sledding with friends the day after that. Great stuff – and there’s plenty of winter left!

All through this I thought about Geralyn’s core philosophy that the potential for REAL play is everywhere, and you don’t need electricity or Disney or any of the other nonsense to help you have fun. No cable service and no batteries. And this applies to the grown-ups as well, many of whom went on wilder rides than we did…and many of whom wound up eating just as much snow, if not more…and, best of all…they laughed about it.

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