The runners of his sled are so sharp that he would have lost several fingers when stowing the sled in the boot only thanks to an emergency operation. He carries spiked shoes for the descent in a rucksack. His sled suit is so tight-fitting and aerodynamic that he has to painfully peel it off after every run, losing a considerable amount of body hair. On the downhill run, the athlete lies flat as a board on his 250 square centimetre frame. With the ground only seven centimetres below his backside and whizzing away dangerously fast like an icy conveyor belt, the athlete steers his toboggan only by tensing his buttocks in a controlled manner.
A ski helmet for tobogganing has long been part of a sensible set of equipment. That's why she has three spare helmets in the luggage case at the back of the sledge to hand out to careless rascals at the hut who are only wearing caps. With xenon headlights and a rear fog light, her toboggan is not only approved for the forest track, but also for road traffic. Nevertheless, she only rides down the mountain sitting upright and at walking pace. You should follow her example. If not, you'll probably have to borrow her first aid kit.
Even if it's minus seven degrees outside, the Eitle has to bite through with his strict fashion credo: anyone who doesn't wear ski trousers exclusively on the piste has not only lost control of their life - no - they are metaphorically and literally already slithering down the mountain and only come to a halt in front of a shabby outlet centre. The vain man makes his way to the top with suppressed trembling, but in a pair of designer jeans, a light jacket and demonstratively without a cap. The journey down to the valley feels like frostbite and icy pinpricks for the Vain One, but hopefully there will be a few style-conscious photos of the day in the snow.
The avant-garde tobogganer is not deterred by strange broken bones and missing teeth - after all, he is a pioneer. On the toboggan run, he can be found with the latest technical gadgets from obscure workshops. Sometimes you see him with a Klumper - a single ski connected to a wooden seat. Another time he is testing a non-steerable plastic bowl. "They all come down" is an old aviation adage. The avant-garde tobogganer sometimes makes his way down to the valley on foot and, in an emergency, with the mountain rescue service.
You can see them long before and for some time after they have passed you. The super parents are a human avalanche, each with four wildly frolicking and free-running children and dogs moving across the entire width of the toboggan run. If you want to get past them, you first have to wait a good quarter of an hour until they have collected their creatures and made them kindly give way. Due to the amount of luggage (food and tea for a cohort of soldiers) and the breaks every 20 minutes, the super parents and their entourage only manage 200 metres per hour. If two of these families meet while tobogganing, all the others can unfortunately leave again.
