Slip Slidin' Away

My ego and my body both took a little beating this past week. I’m actually feeling pretty good, considering.

A little history: From the first time I rode the Log Flume at Adventureland near Des Moines probably 30 years ago, I was hooked on water rides. Though no fan of roller coasters—too jerky and nausea-inducing—I’ve adored lazy rivers, giant raft slides and wave pools since they became de rigueur back in the eighties. Probably comes from all those childhood summer vacations floating in an inner tube on a Minnesota lake—the bigger the waves, the better.

Thankfully, I’ve managed to imbue my descendants with this value system as well. So I get no resistance when I propose a family trip to the Wisconsin Dells, waterpark capital of the Midwest and possibly the world.  Eight of us were able to make it for four days at the Wilderness resort last week: two daughters, a son-in-law, four grandkids between 4 and 14, and me.

Now I’m not going to pretend I’m a fitness hound or that my physical prowess outshines my daughters’. Indeed, I’ve noticed an alarming global gravity increase in the last several years (for which Congress really should fund a study once the national debt issues are ironed out) which tries to entrench me in the lazy river instead of allowing me to repeatedly bounce up the stairs to the top of the slides.

Will and Gramma, just goofing
around post-race

But when grandson Will, age six, asked me to race him on the racing slides, did I tell him to ask his mom or Aunt Tina instead? No, I did not. Even though I’d already done the wave pool, toilet bowl and hurricane that day--besides some tamer slides--and there are about five flights of steps to the top of the racing slides, I gamely agreed to take him on.

Legions of teens sped past me as I grasped the rail and took my time on the way up to the top platform. Fortunately Will and I were about fourth in line, allowing me some time to recover my breath. I was slightly bemused when I observed that NO ONE ELSE up there was over 50—or maybe even 40. But I really became unglued when I observed the takeoff protocol: one crouches over one’s mat in the flight position, hurtling oneself headfirst into the downhill chute when the lifeguard blows his whistle.

Casting about wildly for a way out of this, I briefly considered going back down the way I’d come up. But hey, I’d never tried this before, and I was not going to disappoint Will, who at the last minute had asked me to let him go ahead of me because “I want to watch you come down, Gramma!” (Apparently I have the reputation of being a bit of a screamer.) No, I’d just develop my own form—no one says it has to be pretty, right? So when it was my turn to line up for the death ride, I lodged myself onto the mat and wedged my feet behind me so I could give a big shove when the whistle blew.



Son-in-law Dave winning his heat against Christina, Jack and Autumn.
You can't see the top but it's WAY high. Believe me.



Now I certainly did not have the time advantage, as precious seconds were wasted as I wriggled, shimmied and heaved myself into the race. But I did have the weight advantage, and baby, I flew down that dang tube, around the curves and into the open! At one point I was bounced so forcefully I thought I’d be thrown into the next lane, but all too soon I was slowing enough that I ventured to open my eyes and see I was sliding under the finish line. Woo-hoo! What a rush! When Will asked me to go again and actually race him this time, I only hesitated a second as I contemplated that same tedious trek to the top.

We took our places at the starting line and he shot forward a good five seconds ahead of me as I performed my stylized takeoff maneuver, but that gravity business again gave me the big advantage and I sailed to the finish well ahead of him. “Gramma, how did you do that?” he wanted to know.

Well, William, we are a competitive family, though I take no pleasure in beating you at this. But Angie and Christina, if scores were being kept, I’m pretty sure my total sliding tally would be roughly double both of yours. Just sayin’.