That winter (and the next winter too) we had a tremendous series of snowfalls. It snowed a couple of feet, then half of that melted, then froze over. Another snowfall or two piled a foot or more on top of that crust. There were drifts over 6 feet deep, and if you broke through that crusted over part, you could really be stuck.
I lived on the farm, and would ride my dirt bike all over, through the woods and fields. That winter, though, was special. That winter, school was out more often than it was in. I had so much fun playing in the snow! I built a couple long sledding/ tubing run on these hills: One run in particular was spectacular. It started up in the woods, on a steep slope, then went all the way down to the barn. I carefully broke through the crust, and packed the snow down almost like a bobsled run. It was fantastic!
One bright day, while carrying the sled up the hill, I realized that the snow offered quite a lot of traction. I was climbing a pretty steep hill, in slick rubber boots, and I wasn't slipping. That got me to thinking about the other toys I had -- mainly my dirt bike.
I wasn't even sure I could start the bike in the cold weather, but it fired right up. Off I went, gingerly at first, then with increasing confidence. I had a very aggressive knobby tire on the rear wheel, and it powered me along just fine. The bike broke through the crust, and I found I could step off the bike and it would stand up on it's own. At speed, the front wheel rose above the crust, and the rear wheel would send up a huge rooster-tail of snow. It was great fun, other than the cold.
I'd attach a rope to the back of the bike, and pull my old bobsled behind. My sister loved to ride this way, but she was too young to steer well, so the rooster-tail of snow would land directly on the sled. She'd end up covered with snow like a little snowman. When I had friends over, they'd steer the sled way over to the side. This caused me some difficulty in steering, but it was a lot of fun for everyone.
Sledding on Whidbey Island.