the Exhilaration Continues
Do you remember back in January when I did that blog post on sledding, and I left it with a promise of continuation and added pictures? Well, being as it's been about a month, and to see it you now have to click "older posts" at the bottom of my blog, it occurred to me today that it's about time for me to do the follow-up on that post. I finally downloaded the pictures I took to my computer a week or two ago, and now I'm finally doing the post containing them, and I'm also doing my first blog post on Wednesday this week! I'm not beating my previous record of Tuesday, but maybe I can do another post tomorrow and then make a record for earliest second blog post! That would be nice. We shall see.
So, the exhilaration of sledding. To recap what I mentioned in the blog post this one is following up, I went sledding one day at my grandma's, and then I wrote a blog post that turned into a somewhat technical explanation of my sledding. In it, I decided to divide my grandma's principal sledding hill into four 'sections': the long, gradual start of the slope, the suddenly steeper speedy part of the slope, the 'jump' section created by the plowed-up edges of the driveway, and the ending section after the jumps where you come to a stop. I also wrote about the experience of sledding and all the other things about which I had intended to write but didn't get around to, especially the part about how I broke my sled, which was important. It is unfortunate that it often happens that I run out of time and/or space to fully discuss everything I mean to when I'm writing, as I mentioned in my reflection on my epic blog post on Henry's family tree, which was unique in that I actually fully finished it (except now I realized I didn't fully mention Belle's parents as possible great-grandparents of Henry's, but I guess there's always got to be something, and I finished everything of which I could think at the time).
But then, you think you can finish something properly as it deserves at a later date, but then you come back and that later date is later (much later) than you had intended and you are no longer able to finish how you had intended to because you don't nessecarily remember the details of where you were going with things and you don't remember how things happened as well as you did the day after they actually happened, and so you must simply do the best you can to add what you remember and what you know, and you sort of privately mourn for the story that now will never have the opportunity to be told. This happens to me all too often. Part of it's just that I have far too much story to be feasibly tellable, and part of it is my ongoing struggle with the aforementioned procrastination beast. You know, I'm just realizing that in nearly every one of my creative writing blog posts, I've writtten in some way about my procrastination, or the state of my writing that week. I guess with blog posts I just tend to wander off into whatever's on my mind, and it seems that procrastination and such matters are often on my mind. Well, I guess it makes sense. In any case, it's time I get to those pictures.
There's still more I want to say and show, so perhaps I'll put another to be continued here. Of course, you never know when and whether I might continue this. But there's a whole thing about sledding out in the pasture that same day I haven't gotten to!
Beyond the violet mist, things nearly buried in the blowing snow drifts of time today were somewhat uncovered, and we discovered trees sprouting from odd blue plastic vessels quite by accident.
But then, you think you can finish something properly as it deserves at a later date, but then you come back and that later date is later (much later) than you had intended and you are no longer able to finish how you had intended to because you don't nessecarily remember the details of where you were going with things and you don't remember how things happened as well as you did the day after they actually happened, and so you must simply do the best you can to add what you remember and what you know, and you sort of privately mourn for the story that now will never have the opportunity to be told. This happens to me all too often. Part of it's just that I have far too much story to be feasibly tellable, and part of it is my ongoing struggle with the aforementioned procrastination beast. You know, I'm just realizing that in nearly every one of my creative writing blog posts, I've writtten in some way about my procrastination, or the state of my writing that week. I guess with blog posts I just tend to wander off into whatever's on my mind, and it seems that procrastination and such matters are often on my mind. Well, I guess it makes sense. In any case, it's time I get to those pictures.
A general view of the hill, looking all pristine, my tracks scarcely visible.
The "first section" of Grandma's main sledding hill
sideview showing my tracks walking back up the hill. The downhill track is easier to miss but it's in the top-middle of this picture. I give my downhill track a wide berth when I walk back up the hill so I don't mess it up or run into bumps if my sled swerves out of the normal path.
the downhill track is on the left, the uphill on the right
looking up the hill from the uphill path. The footprints are to the left of the trail made by the dragging sled.
a close-up on the uphill path, where a couple of paths converged.
a close-up of the start of my downhill tracks; hand marks are beside the main sled track because on the first run or two you have to push with your hands to help break the track for the sled. The sled track is deeper downhill than the drag track uphill because I was on it.
the starting point of the sledding at the top of the hill, where the uphill path meets the downhill path. Maimed sled shown in starting position (find out how and why it's maimed below).
Things get steeper: section 2
The "jump section" of Grandma's main sledhill
The first jump is on the left and the second is on the right. The driveway is in the middle, and the fence is at the end.
the jumps as seen from the driveway
the first jump
the second jump and the many jump-paths leading into the last section, where you must stop before hitting the fence.
I often ended up uncontrollably swerving on the second jump after the angle I came off the first jump. It made the run last longer, though.
more good angles of the jumps
you can also see here how when my sled hits the steeper part, the paths the sled took started diverging, because with the increased speed the sled became more uncontrollable and unpredictable, so how and where you hit the jumps became almost random.
The Tragic Fate of My Sled:
The full tale of how this happened is one of those tales I mentioned above that I had meant to tell but lost with time. Being as I am determined to post this today, Wednessday, I fear I once again am at a loss for the time to tell this tale. Suffice to say it did not happen all at once. No, I just came off the second jump and landed and I shifted awkwardly to the front of the sled in the landing, and I heard this ominous "crrrack!" and felt it under my knee. When I rolled off the sled I saw a small but clearly irreperable crack in the bottom of the sled. Realizing that this sled was toast, I briefly mourned it before deciding to ride it 'til I could ride it no longer. I went back up the hill and went again and again. It cracked a little more nearly every time until finally the helm was cloven in two and I knew it could go no more. I then took these pictures to commemorate a good and noble sled, which was not the first to go out this way. Actually, I think it lasted the least amount of time of any of the sleds I've had. Well, I suppose I have indeed told this tale nearly in full, as I can anymore.
I must say, I do really really like the top of these three pictures, because it looks like there is a tree growing out of my sled. This one happened by happy accident, but it reminds me of the trick photography we did way back in digital camera, when I did my giant book. Shameless self-promotion: you should totally go back to October of 2011 to see that picture. It's under "trick photography"and it looks awesome. It took me like literally 30 tries to get that epic picture and now it's late at night and so I am shamelessly advertizing it and bragging of its awesomeness. I should finish this post now.
There's still more I want to say and show, so perhaps I'll put another to be continued here. Of course, you never know when and whether I might continue this. But there's a whole thing about sledding out in the pasture that same day I haven't gotten to!
Beyond the violet mist, things nearly buried in the blowing snow drifts of time today were somewhat uncovered, and we discovered trees sprouting from odd blue plastic vessels quite by accident.
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