Solve the Problem
When I was a kid we didn’t have fancy sleds or toboggans like kids do today. We had a killer hill at my uncle’s house, outside of Orrick, Missouri: it went from the top of a steep hill by his house, across the road at the bottom, and into the neighbor’s cornfield. There were nine of us cousins and whenever we could get together we would slide down the hill. You could use a big piece of cardboard if you had one or an old inner tube if you could find one that would hold air.
But the best was a sheet of roof tin from the dump on my uncle’s farm. That is what farmers put on the roofs of their barns. The pieces that have been replaced end up in the dump. Anything that could not be used as stove wood would end up there. It was usually a small sinkhole or a ravine somewhere on the property. We would then drag the 6 to 8-foot piece up to the workshop and start hammering down any nail holes that were sticking up, so as not to snag our clothes. That would get us a scolding from Aunt Patty.
When the snow was good for sledding we would drag our tin toboggan to the top of the hill. Draw straws to see who had to be the first lookout. That person had to go down to the bottom of the hill and stand in the road to watch for vehicles. Then we would draw straws again to see who got to be in front. Everyone else would set on the tin behind the leader and would hold on to the kid in front of them as tight as they could, the last person had to push to get the tin started down the hill then jump on the back. We would yell as loud as we could going down the hill.
If all went well and we didn’t turn over we could slide down the hill across the road and into the cornfield. Sometimes, especially after a few times when the snow got packed down, we could go almost to the middle of the cornfield. Then we would hike up the hill and start over. Someone else would have to watch the road, the next person in line was in front and the last leader went to the back behind the one who had watched the road. We would do this all afternoon until we were called in to do chores.
We tried to sled down the hill in the summer after the corn had been picked, but it didn’t work out too well. The road was gravel and the corn stalks hurt when you ran into them. Also uncle Merrell yelled at us for putting ruts in his yard. That got us extra chores to do, but it was worth it to have fun with our cousins.
I went back to the farm last year and looking down that hill into the cornfield I was amazed that we didn’t get hurt sliding across the road like that on an old piece of tin. Kids have no fear.
