One chilly moonlit winter evening, some friends and I were discussing what we could do for the night. All of a sudden, an idea hit me. We should take my family’s toboggan up to Buzzell Road hill.
A few days earlier I had refinished it — sanded it and put several coats of varnish on it followed by about eight coats of paste wax. It was ready to fly down the sledding hill with little effort.
We loaded the toboggan onto the top of my car, and off we went. When we got there, we raced to the top of the hill. It was a cold night, and the sledding hill was a sheet of ice.
Four of us excitedly hopped onto the toboggan and pushed off. With the highly polished wax on the bottom, we took off like a streak of lightning.
As we raced down the steep hill, it became impossible to steer the toboggan.
There were dips all over on the sledding hill, and we soon found ourselves headed straight for disaster. Suddenly the toboggan left the ground and shot about 10 feet into the air. When we hit the ground again, the toboggan shattered into a hundred pieces.
Read more fun winter tales by CAPPER’s readers in Winter Stories.
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