November 23rd, 2013 by Jan

And keeping with a theme of messing with stuff — here’s an ice story.

When I was 21 years old I lived in the small town of Grove, Oklahoma. I moved to Grove from the big city of Pittsburg, Kansas. Okay, Pittsburg wasn’t a big city, but compared to Grove it sure was.

I was married to my first husband George, was a housewife, and didn’t work. This is also where I met my best friend Sandie. Sandie was also a 21 year old housewife, and our friendship was sealed.

Sandie and I spent most of our days hanging around the lake, whooping it up or watching soap operas on the TV. Around 4:30 every afternoon we would run home, clean up and have dinner ready for our husbands. It was a good life.

The only winter I spent in Grove, there was a serious cold spell. The lake we spent the summer at, froze for one of the first times ever. At least I was told it was a rare occasion and people who grew up around there did not remember the lake ever freezing over.

I come from the mountains and winter for me meant, skiing, skating, and sledding. In Grove it meant slipping and sliding down the road in slippers before the guys who threw salt onto the road came by. (Another good story.)

I don’t know who had the big fat idea of taking a sled to the boat ramp. It could have been me, but I like to think it was Joe, Sandie’s husband.

No matter, it was a great idea. The boat ramp was covered with a lot of snow and had a long downhill slope so we could pick up a lot of speed with the sled. Big fun!

I guess I didn’t think it was too weird when no one other than Joe and I were willing to sled down the ramp. I also knew we would get a lot more speed if we went down together. So, Joe got on the sled, belly down and I got on top of him.

Off we went, and I remember letting out a big wheeeeeeeee… or maybe it was “Oh, Shhhhhhhhhhiiiiitttttt!”

Joe and I slid fast and far, and right off the ramp, onto the frozen lake and we didn’t stop.

Our ride took us out to the middle of the lake. The lake that had never frozen over before. The lake that even though it was frozen, the ice was not really that thick.

When the sled finally came to a stop, we still hadn’t thought about where we were, and Joe and I whooped again. And then…. full of adrenaline from the ride, we started to made our way back to the ramp, sled in hand, walking on the frozen ice, and we heard it and we felt it, Crack! Crack! Crack!

No, we didn’t break though. I’m not sure why. Sometimes stupidity is rewarded with luck.

This was over 37 years ago, but if I remember it right, I’m pretty sure Joe said, “Let’s go again!”

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