My trip here always takes me way back, to sleeping in my old bedroom with the ground covered in snow. When I was a kid, I�d wake up and could tell something was different � the sound outside was muffled � and I�d jump out of bed, look out the very same window and know school was cancelled.�

Then it was on. I grew up next to a golf course, with a steep decline on the ninth hole that was perfect for sledding. It included a treacherous area we referred to as �Suicide Hill.��

The stretch in the middle is the ninth hole. Upper right corner dropping into the sand traps: Suicide Hill. Mess you up.