When I was little my parents used to take me and my siblings to a local water park a few miles away during the summer. We always packed a picnic and a new pair of cloths for after we where done. But that was years ago. Mini malls and condos now fill the northern california skyline. People seem to forget about the simple things in life like a nice family outing. Alot of times small family owned ompanies get left in the dust.
this week me, my father and my little brother went on a camping trip up to the coast of northern california. On the way back I had the great isea to visit some places from my chilhood. The skunk train, Petrified forrest and many other tourist traps made there way onto our trip list. I had an idea to visit a waterpark I remembered from my childhood.
Well we drove down the extra 30 minuts to the park. We could see a white slide looming above the highway. But somthing didint feel right. I didint have that happy feeling i did when I was a kid. My fear got even worse as we approached the park. I saw the parking lot. Overgrown with weeds not a sighn of life. I knew somthing was up.

My dad stopped the car and me and my brother got out of the car and ran to the entrance of a once lively park. Surely it couldent be. . But my fears where confirmed when I saw the ticket booths and sighnage where gone
and most of the slides where gone

I was in shock. All of the memories of my childhood rushed to my head. I began to cry. How could they close? Why? I looked to my right to see this.
I looked through the gates to see the walk way I walked down for years

If only I could walke down that path one more time. I remembered that the white slide was still up. I was even thinking of hoping the fence to check it out but I Ddidnt want to get arrested
The draining pool with portion of the slide
I couldent take it anymore! I had to leave and forget about what I had just seen. I may never again see this park again as it is being develaped into condos. All I have are memories of days spent with my parents at the waterpark. Things that can never happen again. I will hold onto these for the rest of my life.
WaterWorks
1981-2005