BY CRAIG WENZEL – TRUE DAKOTAN EDITOR

I’ve always been ready for a sled ride down the big hill in the Springs city park, at least in the winter when there is sufficient snow on the ground. The Christmas blizzard that we had over the holiday was a tough one, but it did provide the basic needs for a fast ride on an aerodynamically designed piece of plastic.

Our three-and-a-half year old grandson Layne and his nine-month old baby sister, Londyn, stayed with us overnight after their parents, Matt and Amber, went back to Pierre.

Sunday seemed like the perfect day for sledding. A bunch of kids had already broken the trails and the snow was lightly packed, cold and fast.

Grandma Penny drove us to the top of the observation hill that overlooks the town.

Layne had second thoughts after we stepped out of the pickup and gazed down the slope. He was looking over his shoulder to find Grandma, who had already headed back down.

I wasn’t sure how Layne would react to break-neck speed down the face of the hill so the first run was restricted with my boots sticking out on either side .

“Whee, I wanna do this again!” he exclaimed about halfway down.

Grandma took pictures and some video and we went back up the hill for more.

This time I let the stops out a little bit and the snow came flying back in our faces. “Wow, this is fun,” I thought to myself, remembering my boyhood days when a runner sled provided the propulsion down the hill and the rope/pulley system that A..J. Gebhart designed in the 1950’s would pull you back up again. “Wonder Boy” thought differently. It occurred to me later: “He IS just three years old!”

Happy and red-faced we headed back home where the promise of hot chocolate was waiting for us.

While Grandma Penny was inside stirring up a treat, Layne and I investigated a four-foot snow drift in our front yard.

The big drift tapered back slowly and evenly across the yard. “C’mere Layne,” I said., putting the plastic sled atop the snow drift.

I carefully plopped “Wonder Boy” onto the craft, and after he dramatically counted, “One, two three- Go!” I gave him a shove that started him across the snow-covered lawn. It was a nice, smooth trip… no snow in the face, no excessive speed. Now we’re talkin’!

The boy gleefully came running back, sled rope clutched in a little mittened hand, and exclaimed, “I wanna do it again!” We did it again, alright…. and again, and again, stopping only to wipe an occasional running nose (mine and his) and to make snow angels (Layne, not me).

"King of the North Pole"

About the time we finished, he crawled atop the big drift one more time, put his arms in the air, and proclaimed, “I am the king of the North Pole!”

It was an incredible winter afternoon outing. And you know what? It proved to me that you don’t have to spend a lot of money on fancy vacations or expensive presents. Something wonderful might be waiting just outside your door.