Ryan Leech, Monopoly, and the cold snap

I went for an evening bike ride with my two older kids, Jaydi and Tristan yesterday. In a prairie town.
Ordinarily, riding here is similar to riding the car around the Monopoly board.  Except you can't afford to buy property.  My point is the flatness of it and the 90 degree squareness. 

The traditional coffee table contours of my hometown were blown to smithereens by two things:  warm spell and cold snap.  As soon as the thermometer stared to measure negatives again, and the fairweather types start to finger their command starters, the readside heaps of snow around town undergo a radical transformation.

The edge of every street is a quarter pipe.  Beside every driveway- a launch pad for two wheeled madness.  For a fading wanna-be dirt jumper, there is an instant two square miles of jumping, sliding crispy bliss - with no audience and no competition for space.  In fact, in one hour with two of my dear ones, we saw not one soul on our side of any pane of glass.  We all three worked the snow piles at a nearby school, tested ice patches, cut corners, flew, danced and flailed our way to wherever we felt like going.  I felt like Ryan Leech with two brave Leechlings.  Exhilarating!

   Jaydi and Tristan loved the freedom of the night, the hard snow, and the courage that comes in the dark after bedtime.  With Dad.  Well, for my part, I can't say enough about the joy of all this, under a full moon, and the unseen smile of the real Trailhero.

Thanks.