Toboggan run by winter, extremely painful waterslide by summer: Toboggan National Championships

There are few situations in life when a grown man might find himself dressed in winter boots and tinfoil, with his legs wrapped around the waist of his similarly decorated man-friend (who also, perhaps, is wearing Superman briefs on the outside of his pants), both screaming to the heavens out of fear and near-death enthusiasm.

The first would be a Coast Guard rescue from a wintry plateau following an eager, though fruitless, attempt to communicate with beings outside the Earth's atmosphere.

The second would be the U.S. National Toboggan Championships.

The chute-centric event at Camden's Snow Bowl took place over the weekend, with approximately 400 teams registered for various 2-person, 3-person or 4-person races.

And it was serious business. Teams perfected their form on the flat snow at the base of the chute.

They coordinated intricate costumes using permanent markers, old suits and underpants. And they named their teams things like "Phat Ash," "Internal Bleeding," "Slednecks" and (one of my favorites - a four-person team comprised of Police and Fire Department personnel) "Guns and Hoses."

Down they shot in quick succession, the commentator cracking wise over the loudspeaker as teams scraped past, sometimes quiet, sometimes shrieking.

"You can train for these races by putting a toboggan down in your garage and sitting down on it."

The chute dumps out onto a frozen pond, where most toboggans seized the chance to turn sideways and dump their riders carelessly onto the ice.

Food abounded, as did campers, tents and huddled masses of bundled spectators. Tailgaters spread out at the pond's crunchy shore, toboggans napped in the sharp winter sun.

And civil war reenactors stoked fires.

And musket-wielding men lit a fire under a clawfoot bathtub.

And a grape and a tomato made off with a sled.

Where else, but the Toboggan Championships?