Super Tubers…

February 21, 2009
We recently took the boys snow tubing for the first time and it was a blast. Just to get this out of the way- I made it the entire day without incurring a serious injury. I know some of you worry that with a track record like mine sliding down a hill on a giant inflatable disc may be asking for trouble. But happy to report I made it out intact and am writing this from the joyous warmth of the “5am Pentagon Happy Train” vice the comfort of a hospital bed.

On to tubing. We met some friends at Liberty Ski Resort in Pennsylvania for the afternoon snow tubing expedition. The minute we arrived Mack vanished with his friends and was not heard from again until the last run of the day. Cayden on the other hand was content to stay with Mom and Dad. Strangely enough Cayden requested that I, not his mother, make the first run of the day with him. I say strange because normally Cayden is a Momma’s boy and his willingness to stay with Dad when Mom is readily available is uncustomary. But I quickly agreed as I enjoy having some one on one quality time when the opportunity presents itself.

Up the mountain. We rode the “magic carpet” (conveyor belt) to the crest- giant snow tubes in hand. When we got to the summit I surveyed the landscape. Up until this point I had absolutely zero concerns for my health and well being. From the ground the slope appeared meager and the velocity of snow tubers seemed reasonable- but this was nothing more than a cheap parlor trick used to lure your stupid ass to the top. When you’re on top of the mountain looking down you can bear true witness to what you’re about to subject yourself to- and it isn‘t promising. The faces on the adults ahead of us told me that they too were coming to the same realization that I had- “Holy shit that dude ahead of me left a vapor trail- I‘m in for some serious pain”. Cayden on the other hand was undeterred- he was anxious to get to the head of the line and take his shot at glory.

While standing in line awaiting our turn Cayden suggested that we plummet to our deaths (my words) together by coupling our tubes with the attached leashes- this is a completely approved way of conquering the mountain. I eagerly agreed. My thoughts were that if needed I could possibly use Cayden’s 40lb body as an anchor to potentially slow my decent to just under warp speed. Cayden, surveying my bulk, was having some thoughts of his own- “Dad’s 210 pound body will provide enough momentum to propel me into the future“. His physics were more logical than my own, but by the time I came to this conclusion we were all ready lashed together and at the head of the line.

Perched on the edge of the mountain I had one final thought before we began our descent- if I bounce off my tube I will most likely land on Cayden squashing him like a grape. Mental note, avoid moguls at all cost and hold on tightly with every appendage capable of acquiring a grip. The ski attendant gave the go ahead and off we went.

Judging by Cayden’s facial expressions on the way down we must have been motoring pretty friggin good. I tried to slow us down by lifting my head to create drag but all that did was pull the saliva from my mouth which was wide open attempting to form a scream. Cayden didn’t look to good either. The sheer force of our descent kicked his all ready runny nose into overdrive and a four foot long stream of snot trailed from each nostril half way back up the slope. His knuckles were white, mine were numb, his teeth were clenched, so was my butt. When we neared the end of our run I saw about 50 people frantically scrambling for cover behind the protective barrier that the resort maintains for situations such as this. It was then I noticed several large snow tube sized holes punched into the protective barrier each equipped with quaint little roadside shrine- Holy shit, now I understand what those things represent. Obviously, I wasn‘t the first 200 pound asshole to lash himself to his child and hurl himself down the mountain- but I refused to end up like those that came before me. With all my might I dug the toes of my boots into the frozen earth like a couple of meat hooks and willed us to come to a stop. And yes my friends my determination, will and size 11 combat boots were just enough to save us from an untimely demise.

We released our death grips and stood. Cayden had a peculiar expression on his face which at first I mistook for post traumatic shock syndrome- but it wasn’t. The look on Cayden’s face was pure unadulterated glee.

Cayden- “That was awesome, let’s go again Dad”

Dad- “Sure buddy, but you know what I heard?”

Cayden- “What Dad”

Dad- “I heard that Mom’s can go even faster, let’s see if your’s is available.”

Connie up!

 

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Chris posted the following on February 28, 2009 at 10:21 pm.

I can’t believe you were there the same day we were. What’s up with that?

Jeremiah posted the following on May 26, 2009 at 12:21 am.

I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoy reading your blog!


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