Box Hill is probably most famous for being a motorcyclists gathering ground. The first time I went there was on the back of Ben’s old purple and orange Honda Fireblade. It’s good fun in the summer – full of easy going, sociable bikers. And there’s a cafe that does pretty good chips, so everyone is happy. You can openly oggle other people’s bikes, and that’s always good fun.
However, there is more to Box Hill than bikes, especially at this time on year (when bikes get put away for the winter). As the name suggests, it is a HILL. And where there’s hills and snow, there is sledding.
Ben and I set the alarm for 5:45 this morning (madness, I know), and whilst he de-iced the car, I made up a cheapskate picnic of sausage rolls, a flask of hot chocolate, a flask of chicken soup and a flask of hot ginger cordial (yes, we have a lot of flasks).
We dressed up warm, threw stuff in the car, and were away. When we got to Box Hill, we left the food in the boot, grabbed a pair of rubble sacks, and clambered up the hillside. We weren’t the only ones there, but it wasn’t busy. As you can see from the photos, the snow was already starting to thin and slush, but it wouldn’t stop us.
Rubble sacks make fab sleds. And they flat pack – aces. They go mighty fast, and I ended up with a lot of snow up my jacket (I went backwards a lot – it’s hard to steer). I also ended up with snow in my EAR, but that’s Ben’s fault.
After a couple of goes (we repeated the last section, because it was so steep and AWESOME) we got tired and sore, so headed back to the car park to make use of the picnic benches and have our hot liquid lunch. The soup was pretty good considering it came from a can. But after a while my bum got cold, so we drove back home, happy and tired.
And now I’ve just had a lovely lovely hot bath. Time for a cuppa. Winter is the best.