Farm Sledding.
Ross-on-Wye, middle of winter, lots of snow. Mr. Farmer and I have fed the hanimals, and there's not much else to do, so we spend the afternoon having a competition to build the best sled. Rules are simple: it must be able to transport two grown men. Fastest sled wins a carton of beer.

Mr. Farmer gets all serious and builds a very pretty timber sled with runners and a bizarre steering mechanism. He is quite the craftsman.

I'm not, (Australian, you see) I opted for the low tech version; found a long sheet of sharp, rusty corrugated roofing iron, clubbed one end until it curled up in the air, nailed a timber pallet to the other end, tied baling twine from the pallet to the curly front, to ensure the curly front wouldn't dig into the snow and impede forward motion. So, with all the weight toward the back, there was a good amount of "rocker" (think surfboard) to the whole shape. And it took about 10 minutes and 40 nails.

Anyway, we drag our respective sleds up to the summit of the steepest field. Mr. Farmer makes a lot of derisive comments about my sled's aesthetics. I make lots of derisive comments about his fancy-boy sled.

The slope looks a lot steeper from the top, with the steely cold Wye River below. Mr. Farmer's sled was up first, he sits in the driving seat, and I sit behind in the navigator's seat and shove off.

Nothing.

Another shove.

Nothing again. The runners are too skinny and merely sink into the snow. It doesn't even move with 1 person aboard. He sulks.

No worries, let's hop on mine. I sit up the front of the pallet, Mr. Farmer sit on the back, shoves off and FUCKING WHOOOSH, we are very quickly sliding down the slope with very little control. There is so much velocity the wind is getting under the sled, making the front flail around and slap the snow, throwing up a blinding snow cloud. I realise we have no way to stop the contraption, but what the fuck, we are really moving!

We are nearing the bottom of the slope, and Mr. Farmer screams something incomprehensible in my ear, but the wind is too loud. I then feel the sled lighten and realise he has bailed, tumbling down the slope behind me.

I turn around and yell abuse at him for being a big poof, just as the previously unseen single strand of barbed wire catches me fair across the chest.

Fucking. Ouch.

Apparently I briefly resembled a pole-axed teddy bear, arms and legs briefly pointed forward, cheeks puffed out in a big OOF as every bit of air was driven from my lungs. Tore the shit out of my jacket too.

I still won the beer. Couldn't drink it for a few days, hurt to raise my arms. Also, had to wait 2 days for Mr. Farmer to stop laughing.
( Ken Oath, Sun 27 May 2012, 13:14, 21 replies)

We also got a serious verbal ear-bashing
after we went back to the house and pursuaded his lovely trusting wife to ride the "sled of death", telling her it was nice, safe and slow. She bailed at about 30 mph and collected a lot of snow up the back of her jacket.
( Ken Oath, Sun 27 May 2012, 13:36, closed)

Great stuff!
Lucky you didn't lose your head, though.
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Sun 27 May 2012, 13:52, closed)

Exactly!
Easy to laught about it later, but it still sends a shiver up my spine about what "could have" happened.
( Ken Oath, Sun 27 May 2012, 14:01, closed)

hahahahahahah
Fucking hell, that made me laugh. *clicks*
( Michael Ellis contributes nothing, Sun 27 May 2012, 14:40, closed)

Hahahahahaha Calvin & Hobbes writ large!

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Sun 27 May 2012, 15:39, closed)

clicky
excellent!

uncontrollable sled lols ftw!
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Sun 27 May 2012, 18:33, closed)

"Any vehicle capable of forward motion should always include steering & braking mechanisms"
- Me, about 2 minutes ago.

Have a click you fucken drongo!
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Sun 27 May 2012, 21:40, closed)

I think you'll find he's actually a flamin galah.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 28 May 2012, 9:58, closed)

Like you'd know
you whinging pom.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Mon 28 May 2012, 10:15, closed)

Yoiks.
I'm sure I remember a schoolkid getting killed a year or so ago doing exactly this - sledging into a barbed wire fence.

Methinks you probably got away lightly.
(username failed moderation, Mon 28 May 2012, 9:43, closed)

Steep hills on Ross?
More like gentle rolling hills from where I sit, unless you decided to sledge off Yat Rock at which point you get serious brownie points :)
(SpangoTheWonderBadger is brewing beer, Mon 28 May 2012, 9:47, closed)

yat rock..
The biblins is a great place.. I used to go angel running down those... it nearly left kid marks in my pants... does danter still have that shit hole of a funfair there? I used to work in whitchuch pub and won £40 off danters discarded bottle of larger (some competition the larger was advertising) .. good days...
( The invisible ham Fig rolls are the best, Tue 29 May 2012, 14:58, closed)

Yep
The Danters still own it and half of Ross. Jackie Danter died a few years ago so her nightclub isn't really a nightclub any more (no loss). Her husband was done for selling red diesel from their garage so he did time.
The Biblins and Symonds Yat have become quite a place again, they invested money in the rapids so we get more canoeists now.
The place has changed a bit over the years but not that much, thankfully I live in Monmouth :)
(SpangoTheWonderBadger is brewing beer, Wed 30 May 2012, 10:14, closed)

Night club...
.... Spent many a drunken night in there in the early 90's, was a hell hole really! Good news about the yat though, I'm a canoeist too.
(nikg33 waiting for the weekend, Wed 30 May 2012, 16:01, closed)

Dear God! Haven't we all?! :)
Was always a scrap or two there.
Yeah the Yat is alright now and with the cycle/walk path down to Hadnock at Monmouth it's all rather nice :)
(SpangoTheWonderBadger is brewing beer, Thu 31 May 2012, 9:02, closed)

ahh jaqulines night spot...
I remember getting thrown out of that place many a time. was always great to see jackie wedged in the small booth, with her piggy face against the glass.
Im a llangroveian -- (llangrove)
A friend of mine used to work at the funfair at symonds yat - and told me the story of finding rats in the pop corn machine - he got told to take them out and sell the pop corn that was left in there.
heres some great walks up above the doward which have grown over but take you by the caves.. must revisit at place at some point again
( The invisible ham Fig rolls are the best, Thu 31 May 2012, 11:19, closed)

Click for the big pooh
Gotta have a little homophobia in an Antipodean tall tale.
(justin(e), Mon 28 May 2012, 10:54, closed)

"poof"
Rather than "pooh"?
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Mon 28 May 2012, 11:34, closed)

I'm afarid it come with the territory
Despite growing up with a gay sibling, and not being remotely homophobic.
( Ken Oath, Tue 29 May 2012, 3:21, closed)

Hahahaha, this made me laugh :)
*clicks*
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Mon 28 May 2012, 15:25, closed)

ross-on-wye a.k.a ross-vegas
My home town (well i lived 4 miles from - my old's are still there)....have a click from me.
( The invisible ham Fig rolls are the best, Tue 29 May 2012, 14:53, closed)