Believe it or not it used to snow a lot in Nashville when I was growing up. The snow that fell on Thursday was something we got every year, sometimes two, three or four times, and it was beautiful.

As I think about the snow that fell, I have great memories of grabbing the sled and heading out to have the absolute time of my life. There was one hill in Nashville that was a destination for so many of us.

There will be many arguments about what is, or what was, the best sledding hill in the area, but here is the best part, you are all correct. If you think your hill was the best then it was.

For many of us, it was the hill leading from the top of Percy Priest Dam to the bottom. It is the one that you see as you drive by on the interstate to the right of the dam. For us, it was the Daytona 500 and the Indianapolis 500 all rolled into one.

My friend Chuck would pick us up in his Vega and there would be four of us, with sleds in the trunk, barely fitting inside and we would make our trek to the dam. We would park at the top of the hill, get out and then it was showtime.

We doubled up on the sleds and someone would give us a push and away we went down this long hill. In no time you were going at top speed, and if you weren’t careful, you could up end up in the Stones River.

What made it even better was that it would be packed — absolutely packed. It felt as if every kid and most adults were sledding with you on that hill. Quickly, you would be racing others and you would do your best to wreck them. That felt better than winning.

My most vivid memory was racing down that hill wrecking every other sled in our path and as we approached the bottom doing Mach 12, Donelson legend Barry Oakley stepped out in front of us and said, “watch out.” We avoided him and lost control and flipped our sled about five times. It looked like something out of a Ricky Bobby movie.

With the grace of God, we survived that disaster and many, many others at that spot that I still consider the greatest sledding hill of all time. How my mother ever let me go out when the roads were a total nightmare is something I will never understand.

Every single time I drive by the dam, I always look over and remember those times where the only care in the world I had was the hope that that day would never end.

And in some ways, it never did.

Joe “Big Joe on the Go” Dubin is a Nashville native and a columnist for Main Street Media.

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