Hot Chocolate and New Fears

At nine years old, sledding meant hours of trudging up the snow banks created by a plow in the empty parking lot of the nearby Welcome Center.  It meant a day of fun and cold fingers with a steaming cup of hot chocolate at the end of the day.  The day my best friend and I walked over to that empty parking with sleds in our already cooling fingers I had the same expectations.  And they were surpassed with flying colors.  My friend and I spent hours flying down the tall banks of snow and skidding across the ice coated asphalt, never stopping until our legs were too tired to carry us up those massive piles.  It was in one of those brief moments of time when we waited for our aching legs to return to that familiar blissful numbness when a brilliant idea sparked between us.

Not far from where we sat was a rather pitiful trickle of water called Bell Creek.  This creek is known to host various drug exchanges and drinking parties but being only nine I saw it as the perfect ice arena.  So my friend and I trudged through the untouched snow that covered the field like a blanket, sleds dragging behind us like dejected puppies while we chattered excitedly about our wonderful idea.  We ducked under the low hanging pine needles and dropped our sleds at the base of their trunks before running towards the ice as fast as our booted feet would carry us.  My friend skidded onto the slippery surface first, waiting until the groans of the hardened water subsided before beckoning me forward.  Being both taller and heavier than her, I should have known the end result and avoided it.  But in my haste to be a graceful ice princess, I pushed away all rational thought and stepped onto the weakest part of the already thin ice.

My foot fell through and hit the muddy bottom below with a mushy squelch but the disgusting sound was the furthest thing from my mind.  The frigid water flooded my boot, filling the very thing that was supposed to keep me warm with ice cold liquid.  I screamed and jerked back, falling onto the snowy ground in my haste to get as far away from the cold as possible.  Once I was at least ten feet away and my boot emptied of water, I realized that my friend was laughing at me.  I laughed too, until I realized that I couldn’t feel my foot.  When I tried to stand I fell back into the snow, unable to even move my toes.  My friend, realizing that my predicament wasn’t so funny, helped me onto her sled and dragged me back to her house, which was, fortunately, very close to the treacherous creek.  At the end of the day, I still had my foot and my hot chocolate.  But I also had a newfound fear of ice and a hilarious memory that I hope I will never forget.