wingnut ollie summerassault

Sometimes we get bored by knowing what we are looking for and decide to just go with it, on this particular day we decided to drop into a valley.

We had no idea what was at the bottom or where we would end up or how we would get there but we knew the direction was down. Yes it was my turn to lead so off we went at a pretty easy grade squeezing between some trees here and there, you know it is tight when your ski spread the trees and the snow falls of the branches onto you and your sled.

About 1/3 of the way down a small area opens up and I stop to make sure Ollie and Jen are still with me. As they pull up we take a small break and discuss the next move. Every sledder knows there is a point of no return; yep this is it, as the grade gets steeper, fresh deep powder and tight trees, once you cross this point and keep heading downward you have to ride it to the bottom. So as I am courteous I ask before I proceed on, because we have been past that point once and oh does it suck! With no complaints we drop off down a steep grade through the trees to the next opening. I then set the parking brake and made sure everyone was with me and proceeded on about what seems like miles of tight trees. Right before I exited the bottom of a short side hill pull, I mean 7-10 feet, I was at the bottom and parked on the ledge on the other side, easy, peezy japaneazy.

I looked back to make sure everyone made it through the gap just in time to see Ollie's sled slide down into a tree well. It high sided him and threw him down the hill and left his sled laying on its side in the bottom of the tree well. I figured this was going to make an already frustrated Ollie even worse. I figured correctly as he walked up to his sled and kicked it.

I assumed this would take a couple minutes to get him out. By the time I got back up to where Ollie was his wife was just walking up. Ollie was trying to get his sled pulled back over enough to get back on. Well, I guess it would be more accurate to say he was cussing at the top of his lungs and about to rip the uphill running board off his sled. He did however get it to lay over enough to get sort of back on it. The entire front of the sled is under snow, the back end is aimed downhill into the tree well. He stands up on the uphill running board and got his sled started. He asked if I would just grab the uphill ski and give it a pull.

His next statement was funny for just how wrong it was. He said the sled should just ride right out. I pulled on the ski with him standing with both feet on the uphill running board. He hit the gas and the back end starts to dig in and slide downhill and the front end goes nowhere.

We dug around the front end to try and level it out some more. Everything looked good so we decide to try it again. Ollie assumed the position. Standing on the uphill running board, he got it started, I grabbed the ski and pulled while he hit the gas. Hmm, nothing happened. Sled didn't budge. Track dug a little deeper, but that's it. The only other thing it accomplished was getting Ollie even madder.

Did you ever see someone that is absolutely bent about something and all you think is how freaking funny it is. This is one of those times but you know you better not laugh.

So we felt all around under the snow and don't see or feel anything obstructing the sled. So we get serious about getting the sled out. We hooked up a Snobunje to the ski and Jen pulled it. I grabbed the ski loop of the lower ski and pulled, Ollie was trying to pull the downhill ski up by leaning out and pulling on the bars to get a sidehill going and not having any success, so he yelled fire truck it and hits the gas. He had both feet on the uphill running board and is kind of bent over at a goofy angle when he hits the gas. THE SLED MOVES! YEA! About a foot then slams to a stop.

What happened next was the funniest darn thing you will ever see that you don't dare laugh about for fear of watching a grown man explode.

It was like in slow motion. Ollie lost his balance, hit the bars and went over the front of the sled head first. He slid down the hood, over the front bumper and head first into the snow. His head and shoulders disappeared under the snow; his feet were sticking straight up. He looked like his was running a marathon because his legs were running full blast. This continued as he completed a perfect summersault, full on aerial summersault, I mean the Olympics could learn a thing or two here! He slammed into the snow landing flat on his back. His head popped up out of the snow and I about died. I wanted to laugh SO badly. The sun visor on his helmet had acted like a big scoop shovel. His entire head was just a big ball of snow. All he needed was 2 pieces of coal and a carrot and he would have the perfect snowman head. He ripped his helmet off and I am not kidding, steam was squirting out of his ears. Jen’s back was facing us she was silently laughing her butt off. Ollie turned around, reached down and grabbed the downhill ski tip and pulled with everything his highly peeved off adrenaline fueled self could muster.

Ollie was like Ralphie in the Christmas Story, freaking, fraking, frocking, SOB, and POS words muttered out.

The ski FINALLY popped out and up. Seems there was this itty bitty little branch. It has made a perfect "U" shape under the snow and Ollie's ski had slipped right under it. It had wedged up against the spindle and we just never found it. After that, it was easy. Ollie's sled came right out, no problem.

After we got Jen’s sled unstuck and headed over to where Ollie was he had mellowed out quite a bit. I was going to ask if he needed a hug but then I opted not to for fear he might run me over next chance he gets!

If you ask nicely Ollie will tell the story of the point of no return, or should I say nightmare?