Published Wednesday, January 13, 2016
By Kristen Tribe
"Mom, lean left!" "I am!" Our sled cruised around the corner, seven powerful dogs pulling us along a backcountry trail. "Get ready to brake!" she instructed. "OK. I am, I am." "I'm sorry to be a backseat ... I mean, front seat ... driver!" My 11-year-old, warmly bundled in the sled in front of me, giggled at her own witty observation.