Winter Sports
I was in the trees and three turns down before I noticed that something was wrong. My bindings were loose on the board. They rattled when I turned.
I struggled for control, but I was going too fast. My board shot free. It hurtled down the hill without me. I hit the snow hard and flipped, my bindings still attached to my boots. It hurt.
I tucked and rolled. I was still in the trees. Bad place to fall.
"Here they come!" Courtney learned eagerly against the railing. A blur of orange streaked past before I had a chance to see it clearly. The sled went into the turn. I watched it careering back and forth on the smooth curved ice of the track as it rocketed through the Kreisel. "Aren't they supposed to keep the sled steady, Trevor?" asked Robyn. "I think so," I answered. Courtney's attention was riveted to the orange sled that was fishtailing out of control. "What's wrong?" Robyn said, just as a screech of tearing metal filled the air. Something silver had wernched loose and was lying on the ice. The sled flipped. "Josh!" Courney screeched. The bobsled landed on its side and skidded toward the final turn, where it slowed to a grinding stop.
