My church youth group from Louisiana went to Red River in the summer of 1973, when I was 16. Remembering that trip makes me happy. There was a little peak right in town that about 3 of us guys climbed. After we reached the summit and began our descent down the other side, we discovered a deep bed of gravel about one inch in diameter that went almost all the way down the slope. By taking a running start, then jumping into the gravel, we were able to slide down for vast stretches. We were already kind of amused to be in a ski resort when there was no snow, but we found a way to “gravel ski” anyway.