My family and I take a trip up to Bessemer, Michigan every year after Christmas. We go snowboarding, tubing, and spend time with friends we don’t see often. But the past few years have felt different than usual. Everyone’s grown up now-off to college or busy with sports. The first day of snowboarding went wonderful, everyone got along and everyone was safe. But the second day I was chauffeured down the hill by toboggan. All my life I’d wanted to take a toboggan ride. It sounds weird when I think about it, but I always wanted to be the injured person just to get towed around on the sled. 

But now it was reality. 

It was the second day of the trip. A nice sunny Sunday morning, about 40 degrees, and the snow on the ground was icy cold. I decided to start my day off strong. Double Doodle, the double black diamond run. I went for it. I was off, the wind in my hair felt amazing. Until, I clipped an edge on the steepest part of the run. I was suddenly cold as ice. I looked at my feet after I’d stopped tumbling down the hill. I realized the tree next to me is what caused my fall to come to a halt. The ski patrol came to pick me up not long after. The toboggan ride I’d made out in my mind ended up being the last time I was on the ski hill for a year.