Day 1

After 2 years of planning, I finally made it to the Masters. 
Oh no, not that televised, commercialized event in Georgia being played by a number of highly over compensated professional stroke masters.  Just thirty adults, men and women gathering from all over the US, all amateurs competing in the ultimate version of a kid's "Snow Day" fantasy. 

The Masters Luge Championship, where competitors slide on sleds feet first, (any other way [e.g. head first] is WAY too dangerous, even for this overzealous, over aged kid from Wisconsin) on ice in excess of sixty miles an hour, where one mistake can cost you tenths, hundredths or thousandths of a second, and hopefully only that.  Kiss a wall, lose time, and suffer the pain.   Typically, all but the shouting is all over in less than 46 seconds if done properly - not that I'll see those kind of times any time soon, but "Hey, You never know!".

Driving up this morning, I did not see one blooming dogwood nor azealea, nor any Amen Corner, just 3 inches of new fallen snow overnight, melting under the crisp blue cloudless sky.  Arrived at Mt Van Hoevenberg, finding the course in spectacular condition, more slippery than the greens at Augusta.    Shady 2, The Labryinth, Bendham's Curve, The Chicane, The Heart and the ever troublesome Turn 19 were waiting patiently for the "kids to come out and play".

The numbers of sliders has grown steadily during the practice sessions this week, starting with five hearty souls on Tuesday and six more on Wednesday.  Today, a total of seventeen practiced under practically perfect weather, even by Adirondack standards. Tomorrow, I expect the full complement of thrity sliders, all scheduled to compete early on Sunday morning.  Ex-Olympians, amateur sliders alike -- all humble, happy just to be out "playing" in a sport which most Americans only see once every four years.  I lobbied hard to have this weekend's race streamed on the web, but it was not to be.  Maybe next year.

After three runs during today's practice, the majority of the sliders, and family members gathered and ate at the Adirondack Diner in Lake Placid.  The food and service was great, and the company and conversation was even better.  Topics of conversations included comparisons between individual slider's "Badges of Honor" to the technical details of why laser radar used by the police is not nearly as accurate as I've been led to believe.

After lunch had settled, several of us headed over the Olympic Luge Center, to work on our starts... I truely need all the help that I can get...  The pull from the handles, and three really good paddles, down the iced track and back up the end hill to the BIG blue shock absorbing pad, all done in less than three seconds.  On the upside, my start times were five thousandths of second behind last year's silver medalist in the "Over 50" category. 

I spent some quality time with Duncan Kennedy, former Olympian and currently USA Luge National Team Assistant Coach going over the the finer points of sled construction.  He told me that the sled which he is planning on sliding with this year, he gathered all the components from items headed to dump.  He reworked all the components, and in true Duncan fashion, covered the entire pod in international orange duct tape.  My dad proved to me that duct tape could hold a kayak together for several miles of whitewater, but Duncan clearly has other plans... I think I hear Tim Gunn saying "Carry On".

Tune in tomorrow for "Day 2"