“I’m the King of the castle and you’re the dirty rascal!” In my youth, this was a common phrase we would scream when one of us got to stand at the top of a snow pile.
These snowplow creations were evident in many parking lots around town after a heavy snowfall. As youngsters, these were the mountains that we climbed. The challenges of not being hit by a snowball in minus 30C weather was meant with enthusiasm. It was a great get together for the neighborhood kids and it always ended up with one of us going home crying because someone got too exuberant. However, the next day it would be the same thing over again.
However, the reward wasn’t only to get to the top of the hill but what comes after. I would go home and replace my cold wet clothing with my flannel pajamas and then stand over top our hot air vent. My shivers would melt away.