OF course the supermarket was going to have run out of sledges.

You don't go and buy a sledge on a snow day, not if your heart's set on a day's joyous gliding down the slopes.

The staff member in the local Asda peered at me like I was a right chump when I asked. There had been a huge pile of them, she told me, but they were long ago sold out.

No, a sledge is the sort of item you procure in autumn, ready and waiting for the first flurry.

My young friend was not to be put off, however.

He had been given a fiver from his dad to buy a sledge, he had an adult willing to take him for a few hours fun in the name of exercise and a lack of official sledges was the most minor of hurdles.

My pal appraised a variety of items before we settled on our steed: a baking sheet. It would turn out to be among the best £2 I'd ever spent.

He had wanted to try his luck with a frying pan but luckily there were none coming in at under £9 - no offence to him but it would take a very young or very skinny sledger to fit their behind in a non-stick.

Last year in Queen's Park when the snow hit, sledging was a hoot due to the many and marvellous items people were using to transport themselves from the top of the hill to the bottom.

We spotted lads charging down the slope on flattened traffic cones (although I do not condone stealing road safety items, of course).

There were many people aboard For Sale signs, bizarrely.

One group of adventurous folk were ensconced in the bumper of a car and the fewer questions asked about that, the better.

Last week's fare was altogether more dull.

It was certainly immediately obvious where all the sledges had gone.

Just about every single person on the slopes was on a proper sledge.

There was one person on a classic plastic delivery crate but, other than that, there were more people on snowboards than there were on cooncil sleighs.

While it was busy, I should say, there was plenty of social distancing. It was far less crowded than the scenes the week before on the frozen over pond.

Of course, the grass gives far more space to spread out... and people are keen to avoid each other because getting too close meant collision at speed and certain wipe out.

My chum was unable to get any speed going on the sheet pan but we found the back of an old television set and that proved most efficacious.

I tried the baking tray. Let me tell you, it was marvellous.

It took me back to the days of being small enough to sit on a tray and fly down my gran's stairs on it.

But much, much colder.

After a few practices I was up to the same speeds as those on proper sledges. Well... almost.

The best bit was, despite hours of misuse over two days, the baking tray stayed in one piece. A few bumps and dents and still perfectly useable.

I can't say the same for my fellow tobogganists on their purpose-built plastic sleighs.

On Friday, as the time wore on, a slow pile of broken red and blue plastic sledges began to fill the bins.

Right round the park were the sad leftovers of fun abruptly halted; shards of plastic sticking up from waste bins.

When I went back on Saturday the bins were overflowing and people had set up impromptu sled graveyards.

Not even next to the bins, just in random piles here and there. By a bench, by a tree.

Piles upon piles of smashed plastic.

By Sunday a constant drizzle had melted the snow away and, along with the piled up spikes of abandoned sledges, there were red and blue and green shards of plastic littered full across the hillier parts of the park.

Well done folks. How to turn a joyful, bright weekend into something infuriating.

Who are these people who dump their litter behind them? Why don't think of the potential danger to wildlife and dogs by leaving sharp plastic lying around a park.

Queen's Park is one of the South Side's jewels and yet it's treated as a dumping ground. People rail against the nanny state yet want an invisible mummy or daddy to come and pick up their trash.

The abandoned sledges were the most stark image of irresponsible, selfish littering. But it's not a unique circumstance.

In the summer heat the park was a hotspot for picnics and furtive outdoor drinking. The days following heatwaves saw the park look literally like a tip.

Over the past week of the new lockdown, bins in the park are overflowing with coffee cups as people grab a takeaway flat white and go for a walk.

Idea: if the bin's full, take your rubbish home with you. You're supposed to stay near home so it shouldn't be too onerous for you to carry it.

In each of these situations, local people turn up with bin bags to litter pick. That's because the majority care for their surroundings - but they shouldn't have to.

Glasgow is about to host COP26 and what does it say to our visitors that residents of our city are happy to leave it manky for others to deal with?

There are serious cleansing issues in Glasgow that the council must address. But selfish littering is on us, as residents.

Please, if the bins are full just take your junk home with you. Any excuse not to is simply rubbish.