Deer in the Headlights

It was a few days ago now, but it still is bugging me...

I was out tobogganing with a friend of mine and her 7 year old niece (second niece, I think) and I was having the time of my life. It was the first nice day of the year and everyone was out on the sunny Sunday on their toboggans. I remember Rachael (the 7 year old) and her excitement to go down the hill and how insistent she was that we watch as she went down without holding on. I remember the thrill, the excitement, soft spoken words then being pushed down the hill.

But among all those good memories, I can stop thinking about the kinds of people on that hill. The people-y kind of people. People who don't know shit about common sense, simple physics, or plain old tobogganing with others. The act is simple: slide down a hill on something smooth and laugh and have fun. But the activity is wholly more complicated. You careen down a hill at uncontrollable speeds, slow to a stop, and take an exhilarating pause while you sit at the bottom...

... At the bottom of a hill lined with dozens of other people careening down at uncontrollable speeds.

Get out of the goddamn way!

We all managed somehow to pile onto one toboggan (it was more of a sled, but that's a story for another day) with me, the heaviest person at a whopping 150 pounds, stationed at the front. Our combined weight of a portly fellow and large dog barrelling down at mediocre lightning speed (I'm used to the dangers of the 8-man election sign make-shift toboggan) was suddenly confronted with a man, and two small children, maybe 5 and 9.

We make eye contact.

He stops. Stares.

Fuck you.



Fuck you, too, Mr. Stevens.

I dig both feet into the snow, full Fred Flintsone style. A plume of crystalline snow engulfs our party. I dig harder, into the frozen grass. I'm heading straight for the 5 year old. I have a 7 year old on board. We can't bail.

Dear God, don't let me murder this small child.

Keep stopping.

Yes, it actually lasted this long.

12 metre stop on what is maybe a 30 metre hill, not including the spill field. Two inch-thick tracks scar the hill from halfway down. So much snow I can't see. It didn't feel like I hit a kid. If I did, I bet he doesn't feel the same.

Turns out we missed the little one by a matter of inches. I check to make sure Rachael is okay. She's laughing, but cold from a face full on snow. I don't even realize that I am unquestionably covered in a centimetre of snow.

The man and his kids saunter up the hill.

I ask, what the fuck?

A few runs later Rachael and I walk up the hill. Some kid is headed for us. He's heading straight for Rachael. I casually pick her up in one arm and the kid whizzes by a few inches from me. Rachael didn't know better. I did. It's not a panic situation. It's just a responsibility to be aware, especially as someone who can move out of the way. It's easy. I saved Rachael from what would almost certainly be at least an injury in a tenth of the time to react as the other guys? Am I a hero? No. I'm just not a fucking idiot.