I love to sled. We hike for miles up the snow covered hills, up steep slopes and through forests to get the perfect fifteen or twenty minute ride. Sometimes it is smooth and sweet and gentle, sometimes, after lots of people have packed down the path, it is fast and thrilling and slightly terrifying. But every time I sled, I always fall off. After snowstorms, falling off is a puff of snow and a cold face and ice melt running down your neck, but more often, it is a slid into a rock or tree or a flip off your sled onto ice. You get bruises and sometimes, like Finn last year, you break things (second arm break). We laugh and say that we need to wear helmets, but I’m actually thinking I’ll wear one next time. This year, there isn’t much snow. We have to go up to Pine Hallow and fight with mountain bikers and hikers on the narrow, barely there trail with cliffs on one side. On that trail, there is no possibility of a soft landing. ...