Before I retired David’s Civil Air Patrol jacket last week, I took a photo. I noticed it had been a year (today) since David last wore the jacket, because it still has the hang tag from when we went snowtubing at Montage Mountain:
Short Final, February 13, 2005: Test (tube) pilots
Friday night, Gail and I went over to Montage Mountain to go snow tubing. (See Gail’s account at Snowtubing Postmortem). It’s just 4 miles from our house; kind of smallish for a ski slope, but very convenient to have nearby. We haven’t skied in a while, and I had never snow tubed – so we figured our marked lack of experience would be entertaining.
If you’ve never been, the idea is to travel down a snowy incline after the manner of a sled, riding on an inflated truck tire tube.
Since the tube is round, it has no particular stem or stern, and will travel freely in any direction.
Since it is elastic and filled with air, it will transmit shocks from the irregular terrain to the rider, so as to eject said rider in a random direction.
Since it is smooth on the bottom, the coefficient of friction over the packed, icy snow on the ramp is quite low and provides a startling terminal velocity.
In short, great fun. Unlike skiing, where instruction is available and encouraged, anyone can go out and tube with no lessons or safety briefings of any kind. In this state we bought our lift passes and went up the hill.
There is a cable tow to pull you up the hill; a little awkward to mount and dismount the tube, and it made me feel a little lazy. Our first time up, confronted with the steep ramps before us, we cautiously seated ourselves on the tubes and let go. (You can ride upright, prone, or any weird position you like; again, no instructions!)
Off we went into the frigid night air – picking up speed fast. With my feet in front, I put my boots down to brake a little; instantly I was showered in the face with a spray of ice from my feet. OK, that’s better; what I can’t see can’t hurt me, right? Spinning around, bouncing along faster…
Rather than teach the patrons to stop, the management found it expedient to simply stretch a broad net across the slope, to catch anyone who would otherwise shoot off the ramp and continue on down to the Interstate. It caught me; a moment later, it caught Gail, in grand fashion. She hit hard, so hard that the tube shot straight up and came down on her! But we were laughing, damp but undamaged, and we got in line for another try.
On my third run I switched to prone position, going down headfirst on my belly; the best way for speed and visibility. You have a modicum of control by dragging your toes on one side or the other, or both at once to slow down. Each time we went down, I got a little more confident, and a little faster, once I knew how much stopping power I had. Gail switched to headfirst, too.
It was getting colder, and we took a break to warm ourselves by the bonfire with some hot chocolate. When we resumed, the line was much shorter, so our runs came closer together. I noticed that the braking action was wearing the polish off the front of my leather boots! But by now I was hooked, and bent on raw speed. I could be almost airborne by the second steep section, really moving, and still stop in a shower of ice at the bottom.
We managed to squeeze in ten runs before the lift closed at 10:00, so we figured we got our money’s worth from the lift pass. We were chilled to the bone, but it was a blast; we cranked up the car heater and headed down the mountain. Back home, we thawed ourselves with a hot shower, and settled in for a movie; but I was spent, and was asleep before the first hour.
I’ve put all of David’s uniforms together, and will keep them for posterity, along with his CAP awards. I’ll also be on the lookout for an antique streamer trunk in which to store them.
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What a wonderful memory. Seen from both sides, it’s great. Hang on to that one!
Gail, I clicked on your old blogspot site last night, and then followed the link to this new site. I knew, the minute I saw David’s jacket, that he was gone. I hadn’t been over here since October, because my husband and I moved in December and I only visited a few select blogs over the last few months. The last time I commented on your blog was in late October (when you talked about AwfulSara’s print drive, which I had coincidentally found out about through Flickr and had already ordered a couple of her prints).
So when I saw David’s jacket, my heart sank. I then went and read many of your posts, and sat here with tears streaming down my face. I know I only know you both through your blogs and Flickr, but I’ve loved getting to know you and David and Hugh and celebrating your wedding with you in Blog fashion. There are no words. I know what true love is, and you guys overflowed with it. I went back and read some of your posts about when you first met, and I want to thank you for sharing such a wonderful part of your lives with us. I feel changed by your words . . . I want to live and love fuller and deeper than I did yesterday. My husband now wants to read the archives also, because he saw how affected I was. We’re around the same age as you and David, so we feel like we can relate in that small way. My husband’s cousin has a very rare, aggressive form of skin cancer and will probably not live long, so it hits close to home. How precious this life is. I’m so glad that you had the moments that you did together . . . that you found each other in this big world. My heart is with you and Hugh as you share in missing David.
[...] Last night I read a very touching comment from Shari. It was the impetus to write about how a person as jaded as Yours Truly would come to extoll the virtues of love. [...]