Rip Off!

I'm cheap and I don't like cold weather. With that resume, you won't find me on the ski slopes much. Instead, I spend my winter days indoors--thinking about whether it could be possible to center global warming affects in one area. In school I used to hear about a hole in the Ozone layer above Antarctica, which gives the sun's rays an open shot at the earth's surface. If anyone ever wants to relocate that hole, I've got a place for it.

Nonetheless, I was dragged out to "Utah's famous slopes" last Saturday. Not to ski, but to sled. I threw on my thickest FUBU hoodie and stepped into my black windbreaker athletic pants. I finished off my outfit by strapping on my black Adidas basketball shoes (with their shiny plastic exterior, I figured they'd be more waterproof than any other kicks I owned). I was ready to ride through the snow, or the ghetto. My iPod has music appropriate for either.

Before arriving, I had heard rumors of $17 dollars a ticket for a two-hour time slot on the slopes. I winced at the idea, but in keeping a family committment, I listened to my heart and made the 25-minute drive up Provo Canyon with my wife.

Upon arrival, the actual ticket fee became all too apparent. "That'll be $18 a person," the money-laundering 17-year old girl behind the counter said. As the money was transferred, an image of 36 iTune downloads danced out of my reach, never to return. Yes, I had just dropped 36 bucks... or 6 Hot N' Readys, or 600 Otter Pops, or a few gallons of gas on sledding.

As a youth, back when sledding was free, my friends and I would find the most dangerous descent littered with obstacles like trees, boulders, and snowmobile riders. The sledding area at Soldier Hollow has a rope tow that you hook on to and it drags you up. It's nicer than walking to the top of the hill, but probably not any faster. And I'm not sure if "hill" is the appropriate term. If it were a hill, the ride down on my sled wouldn't have taken as long as the ride up.

In fact, the only time I felt anything close to a rush was when I tried to take the speed of the sled run into my own hands. I strategically placed my sled on the top of the "hill", backed up, sprinted forward, and dove headfirst at my sled at a dangerous speed, hoping to propel myself into a hint of fun. But fun was not to be found at Soldier Hollow. I overshot my landing on the stationary sled and landed face-first in the snow. Thus, I rolled down the 3% grade alone--without a tube and without $36.