When the first guy named Ole climbed up the side of his house just to look around, it was the Eureka Moment. Roof skiing was born.
After all, there’s not a lot to do once your world is buried in snow. Even ice fishing loses it’s sizzle after a while.
Men of all ages like to do many things while at the edge of the roof, but none are so edgy as roof jumping. A successful jump requires skill, daring and snow at the bottom.
Thanks to the glaciers, Minnesota is blessed with more than 10,000 lakes. Everybody knows that. What is less known is the glaciers knocked the top off all nearly all our mountains. Few survived.
And few men survived the early days of roof jumping. But once you’ve climbed to the roof, you have to get down somehow.
When I lie to my friends back in Austin, I tell them this is me skiing off the roof of our house into a snow drift. Like a native. (Over 30,000 viewers on YouTube. Click here.)
That’s not inaccurate enough to be wrong. Although I don’t know the skier, I do know his parents.
They are so proud.