By Susan Gerhard

susan@sfbg.com

BEING THERE

There's an easy way to experience winter in San Francisco, or at least pretend to. Just wait for the coldest day of the rainy season, open the windows, turn off your heat, and pretend you live in IceHotel. Pacific Gas and Electric Co. warns that bills will increase by something like 4 billion percent this year, so why not? Fix yourself an Absolut vodka, lie back on your nicely iced bed, and enjoy.

If you can't make it to Lapland, or even Tahoe, or find that you are a parent or guardian of a child who, after four hours of car travel, explodes like a well-shaken can of Coke, the next easiest route to arctic circle-style high jinks is to throw your coats and tire chains in the trunk and make the relatively short trip to what's marketed as "the closest snow to San Francisco": the sledding hills of the central Sierras, near Sonora. No special expertise or equipment is necessary, just a small park entrance fee and a very small amount of intestinal fortitude.

We were short on intestinal fortitude during a weekend visit last year. The shaken can of Coke – a boy, aged six – burst, not on the three-hour ride to the nearest snow, but after a few days of secretly ingesting that pristine-ish element off the ground. Not recommended. Also not recommended: placing a $6,000 check (the journey doubled as a business trip for my friend) in the back pocket of your ski pants for safekeeping. Another kind of nausea set in when we realized it had popped out somewhere in the sludge alongside Highway 108, or maybe in the trash at the snow lodge, or perhaps in that delicious bathroom at the gas station ... Still, it's proof of the sledding hills' power that it took only three or four weeks to forget about the vomit and the panicked backtracking and begin planning a spring-break return.

The sledding hills you grew up with may bring to mind the adventures of Ethan Frome (our favorite downhill spot back home in Ohio was aptly nicknamed "Suicide Hill"), a spot called Leland High Sierra Snow Play, about 40 miles east of Sonora, does not evoke images of paralysis and feeding tubes. Those bottom-of-the-hill trees have been cleared, and the paths made relatively bumpless. Groups of many – let's say fewer than 500 and more than two – often join arms and slide down together in what would surely be death on a waterslide but is simply crazy fun on snow. Killjoys that the proprietors are, they don't want you to die on their hills; they even provide lifeguards of a sort, monitors who'll tell you when it's time to take off and may signal for help if you can't find your legs when you get to the bottom.

Your young charge (and possibly you) will be thrilled with somewhere between five and eight snow paths – whose ride strength could be measured by price-to-correct on the chiropractic scale – as well as a small-kid-and-snowpeople-only section for the youngest. For a small fee, inflated inner tubes and plastic sleds are provided. Unfortunately, your heirloom Flexible Flyer is not allowed, which might account for the paltry finger-and-toe amputations experienced on our trip.

It's comforting to note that Leland includes a fairly gigantic lodge for the weary – when traveling with compressed-kid cans at 6,300 feet, weary sets in early. The day's exercise comes from walking up each hill before you sled down it; no cozy lifts here. Which means by 2 p.m. you're done – and inside a fire awaits. Hot chocolate and cider, burgers, and fries are a nice break from a diet of Sierra snowmen.

Or, there are plenty of snow towns along Highway 108 offering rental cabins and sled hills all your own – from nearby Strawberry, Pinecrest, and Mi-Wuk Village (all close to Dodge Ridge Ski Resort) to Twain Harte, named for two literary figures claimed by the region. But for a San Franciscan like me, whose eyes are bigger than her stomach when it comes to snow, the true beauty of the area is that there are also plenty of towns along 108 that won't be covered in white. Depending on the weather, the drive from the sledding hills to ice-free roadways where chains are not required and the speed limit is more than 50 mph – as opposed to fewer than 5 – can be as short as 10 minutes. In a half hour, you could find yourself panning for gold in one of the nearby ghostly gold rush towns. And if you've been as careful with your cash as we were, you might need to.

Susan Gerhard is a Bay Area writer, Bay Guardian film critic, and colder-climate escapee. TRIP PLANNER Leland High Sierra Snow Play Open from first snowfall to around mid-April, daily, 9 a.m.-5 p.m., 34033 Leland Meadow Road, Strawberry. $12, $6 for five and under, $4 equipment rental. (209) 965-4719, www.snowplay.com. Where to stay Twain Harte is charming, with cafés, fairly good restaurants, and plenty of rental cottages. Try Twain Harte Vacation Rentals (209-586-3222, www.thvr.com). Cheaper motel lodging can be found in Sonora (www.sonoramotels.com), a great, less snowy jumping-off point for nonsnow gold-mining tourism, thrift shopping, Latin American dining, or simply the drive home.