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When our son Matthew was six, we bought our first Lehman’s Racer. (Yes, even Lehman’s owner has to pay for the merchandise he takes home!)
We don't have any photos from that fateful day, but here's a local child headed down hill on our racer.[/caption]
Of course, Matthew wanted to go first. I understood how he felt, but had misgivings about sending my first born child plunging down this suddenly frightening hill. Nonetheless, I gave in to his pleading. Not only that, but I gave him a good running start!
Down the first 30 feet he went, gradually building up speed. As he shot over the crown, he let out a startled “eek!†After that, we heard nothing but the scratching sound of those waxed runners screaming over the hard packed snow. When Matthew emerged from under the crown and shot out onto the meadow, I realized he was moving at a much faster clip than it seemed like the other sleds had been going.
In my memory, all the sledders were gathered at the top of the hill and stood in awed silence as he shot across that meadow toward the barb wire fence. There was a growing sense of dread as the sled drew nearer and nearer to the fence. With the snow on the ground, the bottom strand of wire seemed dangerously close to the ground.
“Get off, get off!†I yelled. But, Matthew clung to the sled like it was his lifeline. The Lehman’s Racer is steerable, but he kept it going arrow straight as if he was trying to draw a geometrically perfect perpendicular line up to the fence.
As he reached the fence, by now moving along at something close to walking speed, he had the sense to duck, pushing his face down against the steering bar of the sled. By then, he had long passed the point where the other sleds had packed down the snow. As he ducked to pass under the fence wire, a plume of white powder feathered over his head. The light powder was indeed piled high enough to allow only a few inches clearance to the bottom wire. But, now he was going through the snow, not over it.
Having cleared the fence safely, the sled plunged down into the creek ravine and disappeared from sight. The creek is only a few inches deep at that point, but that didn’t stop me from imagining a horrific accident. I tore a sled from the hands of a startled young man standing beside me and tore down the hill after my son.
Of course, my sled stopped long short of the barbed wire fence and I had to run that last 20 feet. When I reached the edge of the ravine, I saw my son standing at the edge of the creek unhurt but dripping wet. The creek was covered with ice. The twin tracks made by his waxed and sanded runners ran out onto the ice, but in the center of the creek, they ended at the edge of a Matthew-shaped hole. Black water was bubbling slowly past the jagged-edged hole. At the downstream edge, I could still see the brown muddy water he had stirred up slipping silently away under the ice.
My son was fine. But hot cocoa and dry clothes now replaced sledding as the new desire of his 6-year-old heart.
And, there’s two simple morals to this story. First, sanding and waxing the runners of your Lehman’s Racer will make it go faster than you ever imagined. Second, don’t sled down hills that have barbed wire fences, creeks or other obstructions. Even a steerable sled like the Lehman’s Racer relies on the ability of its rider to steer it!
Galen Lehman, President, Lehman's
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