“Thirty minutes later we were back at Glen Ellen Hill with a wooden sled which now had rails made not only of wood but were line with flat brass curtain rods.
Belly down. Give it a push. Yipeeeeee.”
And away I went. I made it almost to the bottom of the hill. The other kids were swooping past at much higher speeds than I and ending their ride 100 feet or more beyond me. I had already had a lesson in disappointment and yet a better one about overcoming problems, I told my partner in sled design that I’d like to stay awhile if he wanted to go on; I could get myself back home. Father congratulated me for the third time and waved good-bye and I pulled my sled back up to the top of the hill and repeated my performance with pretty much the same results and then wandered over to the club house to think awhile.
The difference in performance, I said to myself is not the sled itself, but the material used for the runner. there wasn’t much use in trying to make it better and I had a great idea for earning income when the grass turned green; I could buy my own Western Flyer. And then I remembered a movie at the Bison Theatre last Friday; it had a scene at a ski resort.
I took another ride down Glen Ellen Hill, then went back home and inventoried the garage for building materials. I was intent on making a set of skis.