Faster. And more dangerous

Last year I took Cody out in the snowpocalypse in a classic sled, which was more like being in a horse-drawn sleigh with me in the role of horse. This was it:

It was a good time and everything, but it lacked both a sense of serious adventure and very much velocity. (My fault.) During our trip to NJ, however, Uncle John decided to carve a luge path on the diagonal across Pop-Pop's front lawn and build a giant starter ramp at the top. Pop-Pop then procured a slick plastic tobagen tobboggen tababoggyun sled from Denville hardware. Between the grade of the hill, the packed snow in the chute, and the sled's delightfully low coefficient of friction, Cody was able to achieve some real speed. So much, in fact, that Pop-Pop had to wait for him at the bottom and body-block him from careening into the street:

The only way to really get the sense of speed is to note that his hood starts up, but gets blown down in the course of the run. It was that intense.

The best part, however, is that every single time we did this we had the same routine: He would call down to Pop-Pop and ask, "Do I have a thumbs-up?" Pop-Pop would post the double thumbs, indicating that it was safe to go. Then he'd count to ten as fast as he could and shout "Go!" I'd release him down the track.

And then, for the entire length of the run, he'd repeat, over and over, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer . . ."

I'd chase him down and then he'd beg me to carry him back to the top so we could do it again.

He only took one spill and faceplant, but he took it very well. Quite enjoyed it, actually. Here he is up close, savoring the feel of snow on his cheeks: