WHEN MY MOTHER-IN-LAW first suggested it, I had no hesitations whatsoever. I love roller coasters, I love heights and speed and feeling like a cartoon character who falls and leaves his head or stomach dangling above him.
So when we arrived at Utah’s Olympic Park, I was ready. I’d eaten a nice, big greasy diner breakfast – eggs, hashbrowns, the works – in cocky preparation. We took a tour of the facilities first, led by a member of the 2010 U.S. women’s luge team, who showed us their track and talked shit about the bobsled team.