The back side of our hill is steep. Really. It is steep enough that our dogs have trouble getting up and down it. If there were a word beyond steep, I would use that one instead, but I can't think of one.
When a hill is steep enough and the soil sandy and dry enough, the conditions are perfect for dirt sledding. And that is precisely what my kids were doing today--dirt sledding--apparently training for some sort of Redneck X-Games. I walked up the hill to visit them and my son wanted to show me how fast the hill was today. He jumped onto his knees in one of the sleds--the classic blue plastic two-man model with the two sets of yellow plastic handles--and boy and sled rocketed downward.
I think I mentioned that the hill was steep. Did I mention yet that the hillside is also wooded, as in adorned with large, old-growth Ponderosa Pine trees?
The good news is that the boy, aside from a few bruises, will be just fine.
The sled, however, didn't survive the impact. What's left of it is now in the trash can.
Perhaps we need to learn a little about bailing out of an errant sled, rather than staying in it as it veers off course and heads straight for a massive tree trunk at full speed. It was not a pretty sight to watch from the top of the hill.