I walked Cali today in my childhood neighborhood. That’s when an old memory came to mind. My dad’s home sits at the bottom of a steep road, and back in the good ol’ days when it snowed, the city would close the street for sledding.

Kids appeared by the dozens pulling plastic and wooden sleds. A winter paradise for hours. We’d make barrel fires at the top to warm up before fearlessly launching ourselves down the hill over and over.

Those days are forever gone. The city doesn’t close roads anymore, probably something to do with insurance and litigation. That means the new generation of kids have no idea what they’re missing. Thank goodness my time was before all the red tape.

But not everything from those distant winters is lost. Tucked away in my attic is a vintage Sears sled, a speed machine of wood and metal, still in great shape from all those snowy rides. A relic of America in the 70s, both me and the sled.