Changes on the Horizon

With warm weather threatening to bring winter to a hasty end, I’ve been feeling the need to do a little cyber spring cleaning in the form of a new blog design.    I am hoping that Suitcases and Sippy Cups will have a fresh new look in time to celebrate my official one year blogiversary.    I say official because I have been writing down our traveling stories for several years, but there were only about two people who were interested in reading them (and they were related by blood, so kinda obligated.)  One year ago in March, I decided to take our stories a bit more public and began blogging regularly here and meeting tons of other fantastic and inspirational traveling families and readers.

It is my understanding that most of the rest of the country is still experiencing a season known as winter, but here in Texas we have warped right into gloriously warm spring weather.  With the sun shining and the air conditioning blowing, I thought it would be good time to remember a very cold day we spent in Quebec at the Winter Carnival; a trip that was filled with plenty of chilly fun and one moment of unforgettable horror.

 

Chateau Frontenac

No visit to Quebec is complete without a tour of the city landmark, Chateau Frontenac. The hotel is located on top of the hill overlooking the St. Laurence River, and creates an ambience of old world Quebec. We toured the lobby of the hotel, mostly to give ourselves a break from the cold. There was much more to be explored inside, but the opulent décor of breakable items combined with the exuberance of the boys made me willing to brave the winter weather once again.

Firing Cannons

Outside we walked around the side of the hotel to find a downhill toboggan run, and we promptly bought tickets. On our way to the hill we passed a row of cannons that hearkened back to the Quebec’s days as a citadel.

See the hill in the distance?

Soon, we reached the hill. This was no ordinary hill. There was a steep climb up and an even steeper drop back down. As we clambered into line, each of us parents pulling a toboggan occupied by a boy, I noticed that the toboggans were not just gliding down the hill. They were flying. As in, I could see air in between the track and the runners. Oh, and the toboggans had no safety restraints of any kind. Yikes!

It was too late to turn back, especially because the company offered no refunds for tickets. I silently wondered if a fair number of people chickened out when faced with the full brunt of the experience. The climb up the hill did nothing to calm my fears. Imagine yourself climbing a hill, pulling your 40 pound 4 year old up on a large toboggan. Got a mental picture? Now imagine the ground beneath you is a solid sheet of ice. As much as I studied the people around me, I just could not figure out the equation for maintaining my footing while pulling the sled. Every step was a series of slip, slip, slip before I could finally manage to advance.

Adding to my chagrin, I realized that if I slipped and fell I would create an ice slide that would be something like frozen dominos, taking out my husband, my two children and the fifty people standing behind me. I looked around for a fast exit and, not unlike childbirth, I realized the only way out was to complete the task.

The Mister sensed my struggles so he braced each of my steps with his foot to allow me to have something to push against as I climbed. With this method, we made it to the top. 

Waiting in line

I really wanted to be relieved, but looking down the steep incline, I was not. Let me say here, I really enjoy roller coasters and rides of all kinds, but this was different. Why? There were no seatbelts, for crying out loud. Nothing to ensure that my babies were going to stay on their toboggan and not fly off into a snow drift. I looked around to see if maybe I had misunderstood, but that is when I realized that we were not in Kansas anymore. For that matter, we were not in any state in the Union, where no one would be allowed to ride down a hill without being properly restrained. In all honesty, this is mostly due to our penchant for litigious behavior and has nothing to do with actual safety, but I digress.

The next challenge was language related. The ride operator, a hearty Canadian man who was not even wearing a coat, tried to explain (in French, remember) how I needed to straddle the toboggan to begin the ride. “Je ne pas parle Francais,” I interjected, not sure if I was trying to communicate or stall. He started to explain to me again, but he stopped mid sentence when he realized I did not understand. At that point, and this was a blessing in disguise, he grabbed me by the waist, plopped me into position, and gave us a swift kick down the hill. 

It's all downhill from here

“Woohoo, I want to do that again,” Evan exuded as we coasted to a stop at the bottom of the hill. I stood up, a little shaky, as Gary and Ryan slid into the lane next to us. Gary’s face looked exactly like Evan’s, while Ryan looked a little like me. “I do not want to do that again,” Ryan declared. It takes all kinds and in our family we’ve a got a couple of play-it-safers and a couple of thrill seekers. Together we make a good balance, I hope.