Where to sledge?

We've had snow at 88 like most of the UK. With snow and with children comes the need to sledge. But where to sledge? We've lived at 88 for nearly 6 years now and although we've had two previous winters where the snow fell thick and deep, the children were quite young and were happy being pulled along in the sledge and pushed down a gentle slope at the back of the house. But at the grand old ages of 7 and 5 they demand steeper and longer slopes. We are not from this area. I'm a Yorkshire lass, who got her passport stamped and came to live over the Pennines....but we won't talk about that..... and my husband comes from 20 minutes up the road. But sledging is an on-your- doorstep pursuit. You can't get in the car and drive 20 minutes up the road. You have to trudge from your house.

It made me ponder the fact that you can never feel really at home in a place until you know the best places to sledge. By that you should know the little gentle slopes, you should know the short but steep routes and you should know the black sledge runs. Even if you don't have children yourself, you should know where to direct your younger kith and kin or indeed yourself in times of deep snow.

I was brought up on a farm and I knew where to go to sledge depending on the level of adrenalin rush I craved. My husband's family have lived in the same area for generations so he sledged where his mum sledged where her father and mother sledged where their parents sledged. We felt at home and I think our parents felt at home.

We are lucky here at 88 - we have a bloody big hill in front of the house, known affectionately by us locals as The Low (took me 5 years to discover that) but where to go on that huge hill? OK I could have asked a local mum at school but that would have spoilt the fun. Off we crunched. We soon found a spot...but then a friendly girl, walking her dog who clearly had fond memories of local toboggan runs, pointed us in the direction of better slopes for speed and excitement a few fields further up the hill. And Reader, we found the perfect run - quiet, fairly steep and with tufty grass popping through near the base of the run so that mum was happy noone would smack into the  dry stone wall at the very bottom.

We came home all very cold and wet as is de rigeur when sledging and I felt I'd settled into the place that little bit more.