Jenison — Most neighborhoods have their own infamous hill, a stronghold as the winter stomping grounds for generations old and new, often with a name no one remembers the origin of.
Charlie’s Dump is one such hill.
Over in Georgetown Township in West Michigan, Charlie’s ubiquitous pit has been a gathering place over 100 years, proving that classic fun doesn’t require pristine slopes, new playgrounds, or fancy equipment. All it takes is a quick drive to the old town pit and something flat. Cardboard works just fine.
This sledding bowl was once a flat property, belonging to a beloved local town resident Charlie Montague. He had spent most of his life on 20th Ave. Charlie’s upbringing in the small town included visiting the local Indians on the river, who gave him a quiver and arrows as a child. He met his wife, Eliza, who lived down the street, and they built a house together just next door. By 1924, the town used his property as a gravel pit, creating a large hole in the ground before returning the property to Charlie. Charlie and his wife Eliza loved children, despite having none of their own. They let kids and neighbors use the pit as a playground and even make a small pond in it.
After Charlie passed at age 98, folks began dumping trash into the hole, until the township claimed the property in 1977. Charlie’s Pit became Charlie’s Dump.
The pit was eventually covered with grass when the property was turned into a public park, with the bottom becoming a soccer field. Three generations later, Charlie’s Dump is still in the minds and hearts of the township. After a fresh snowfall, the 360-degree bowl is fair game for sledders and shredders who are free to build the sled track of their dreams.
Local spots like Charlie’s Dump always include some homemade jumps. I walked to the edge of the snow covered bowl this past weekend, catching the sight of the two hardened jumps at the bottom of the run, immediately flashing back to my own first time getting air on one of those bad boys as a child. I had launched what felt like eight feet into the air, with all the wind leaving my lungs as I thought for a split second I might die, before I could even turn six. A canonical event for any child.
I set up my nephew on a saucer, a stone’s throw away from the icy jumps. The smile on my face was as big as his, as I watched another generation of my family join in on the endless enjoyment of the old pit.
One helpful tip: If you’re returning after many years away from sledding like me, maybe stretch first. Especially if you’re going to let the little ones steer. I’m in search of an arm brace as I type, but I have not one ounce of regret.
Devinn Dakohta is a contributing writer for Michigan Enjoyer. Follow her on Instagram @Devinn.Dakohta and X @DevinnDakohta.
