Over the weekend we packed away the January winter household decorations and brought out the red February decorations. I wanted to leave my childhood sled in place where it had sat since we put up Christmas decorations, but I decided it was best to put it away and look forward toward the transition to Spring.
Before I put it away I couldn't resist the photographer me in playing with different angles in my phone camera to take photos of the sled. It sets next to the plant my friend gave me when my Dad died in 2005 and the plant is barely hanging on. It was doing great until it got too tall and I cut it back and then I moved it to put the Christmas tree here around that time. It did not like being moved from its spot. It is hard to believe that it has been 10 years since Dad has been gone. Of course, I have such fond memories of this sled because of Dad. He was the one to encourage me to get out there and ride it as a young girl.
I remember the commons between the houses (where I lived on Gladiator in Fenton, Missouri) and one year I rode it all the way from behind our house to the creek (the length of about 10 or more house and yards). The snow was not that deep but I believe the ice was there enough to make me go. I remember I traveled really slow, but yet it just kept moving. It seemed such a miraculous thing to me that I remember it.
I remember setting the sled down and backing away from it to get a running start, then doing a belly flop onto the sled to get the speed up. Oh, how I wish I could do that kind of thing now.
Of course, everyone who grew up in the subdivisions remembers the hill that was near the creek in the commons. We couldn't wait to gather with all the other children to ride the hill and it was fantastic fun. It seemed such a huge hill to me. At the end, it went parallel to the creek and there must have been just enough slope to make our sleds veer to the right and if you did not have the skill, you might land in the creek. I remember my brother landing in the creek one year, but he came out unscathed.
I was scared of the creek, I was not so skilled at turning, but I sure had the feet breaks down pat to put the stop on the sled before it got near the creek.
Of course, there is the rubbing the rungs with wax to get the sled to go faster, but that hill was fast enough for me and I did not need to go any faster.
Oh, the memories of this sled are probably more valuable than the sled itself.