BUMPER SKIING in Short stories

BUMPER SKIING -(A short story from a Winchester son) - The year is 1978 and it is a cold, snowy day, School is cancelled, and our crew of 14 yr old buddies are walking around town looking for mischief, perhaps a snowball fight with a rival Lynch crew, as we all know McCall rules and Lynch drools.

The snow is falling heavy now, that thick wet snow that piles up quickly and turns everything white and stings as the large flakes hit your face. It’s cold and so snowy that it is like a white out when the snow fall is so heavy it clouds the horizon with millions of flakes and that odd white wash and shadow from the flakes mixed into your field of vision.

The crew is standing on the corner of Mystic Valley Pkwy and Washington street closest to Lincoln school across from the library. There are only a few vehicles on the road as the fast snowfall has accumulated inches quickly and what cars are on the road are sliding with their lights on and snow gathering on them.

We all smile and laugh and the smack talking starts as we realize we are in the midst of perfect bumper skiing conditions, oh the joy at the thought of being crowned bumper skiing king for the day.

The car pulls up to the red light headed up mystic valley from down town on the slight incline. We are huddled near the light pole with our faces covered and hidden so as to avoid being recognized, laughing, daring, full of bravado and claims of supremacy.

We scan the car to see if it has a good old school steel bumper and much to our delight it does as at this time in the 70’s many cars had steel bumpers:)

The car driver is unaware smiles and waves at the collection of adolescent boys on the corner possibly wondering if they are about to get pelted with snow balls as they pull away.

We are watching the opposing light and like a military maneuver myself and one other peel off crouching low so as to avoid detection by the driver and in a low tuck with our feet squarely under us we grab the bumper shoulder on shoulder tightly centered behind the car. The car gets a green light and starts to pull away, if your a rookie bumper skier and set up near the edge of the bumper you get pelted with snow from the tires and are quickly dispatched. Scott and I are experts and the ride begins wahooo. Crouched with our butts centered behind our ankles inches from the ground, back slightly arched, (form is critical), head up, arms slightly bent in a curling motion with a under hand grab on the bottom of the bumper. The car gains speed, our feet wobble, the strain of the gaining speed pulls at your arms, and then the fun begins your laugher comes from your core and you start to shoulder lean and check each other to knock your buddy off the bumper and be reigned the king. The road rushes by under your feet. Your boots act like little plows and snow flies up in your face if you get off form. Pushing. pushing on your competitors shoulder with all your weight, leaning out then back in with a bump, talking smack your falling dude, you suck, look out man hole, dude you suck and on and on the hazing goes.

He’s off I’m victorious and I release my grip and victoriously slide up the road until my momentum stops, like an end zone dance I’m dancing like the bumper skiing king I am proclaiming my skill to all can here.

A car horn sounds, a window roles down, and a concerned citizen starts giving us the business. We book it and laugh the whole way wondering how long we have before the plows and sanders ruin our bumper skiing competition, or the squad car roles by and the officer tells us to knock it off through a broad smile, always a broad smile, “get moving you clowns I’ll call your Fathers”

Oh the days of heavy snow seeking a snow ball fight with a rival crew, and filling the time with bumper skiing wars, just hoping and praying the line the car took failed to go over a man hole cover as no snow collected on those and it was an abrupt wipeout that usually hurt bad yet you were 14 and with your crew so you would never admit to being hurt.

The days of Bumper skiing are as rich in my mind today as when I was affixed to a bumper adrenaline pumping laughter booming wondering wondering how long will I ski today and how many will I knock off.

To the countless, nameless 18-25 yr olds who would circle back round to give us another ride…Thank you for enriching our young lives we know you wanted to be standing on the corner waiting for that stealthy approach to grab a bumper and ride with your hair on fire once again!

McCall Rules Lynch Drools!

(Thinking about a book of Winchester short stories.... thoughts?)