Winter Fun: Part One — The Early Years

While growing up in Rochester, Mich., winter-time fun was the norm. My sister and I were always outside building snow forts, ice skating, sledding or skiing. In our early years, three of our neighbors generously converted their shared vegetable garden into a community ice rink. This afforded us after-school and late-night skating parties without having to abide by open skate times or rules. As for sledding, our backyard was the place. We spent countless snow-days out there. Some of our neighbors even learned how to ski on our bunny slope.

 

As we matured into adolescence we graduated from backyard sledding to an unmarked hill near Stoney Creek Metro Park called Suicide Hill. The name ought to clue you in. The journey to this hill was part of the fun. We trekked miles through fields of deep snow barefoot with no coats, gloves or scarves. Once there, my sledding buddies and I laughed our cusses off. The steepness of the hill made for high-speed descents that often ejected us from our saucers before reaching the bottom. We were lucky. No one in my group ever broke bones or suffered concussions. Our greatest afflictions were sore muscles and wet jeans (because we were too "cool" to wear snow pants).

 
to be continued …