PARK CITY, Utah – Seated in a shell of fiberglass and steel, I stare straight forward, my heart hammering at a staccato pace. Quivering hands grip steering-cable D-rings. I test each, but nothing budges. The runners remain locked because I sit at a dead stop. That will soon change.

Ahead lies a twisting, half-mile chute of ice-covered concrete. Through it, my banged-up bobsled will hurtle at speeds touching 60 mph. I sit in the driver's seat, realizing that only skill and experience separate me from a gurney ride to the ER.

I, of course, have neither.

"You ready?" one of the attendants asks.