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In this attempt at writing, please forgive me for my boo-boos. I am currently on pain meds for another stupid thing I did and hopefully it is coherent and funny.
During my formative years (you know between trying to figure out how to ask a girl out and learn to drive a car), I lived just out side of Beavers Bend State Park in southeastern Oklahoma. Actually, just south a few miles down the road from The Ouachita National Forest (pronounced O- wa-chita) and west of the Broken Bow Lake spill way.
My brother and I had received ten speed bicycles and we became avid riders. Of course, I have already told you about his ride down a hill ( http://bad4.newsvine.com/_news/2009/03/26/2606722-my-brothers-new-shoes ) and in all seriousness, that was his stupid moment.
Of course, I had some of those moments too. What is it in our youthful brains that give us the impression of immortality and a lack of thought about the minor obstacles in life - like things that could kill us.
"HEY! Let's jump in the river!" Never mind the fact you are standing at the edge of a 100 foot cliff!
"Wow! I wonder what would happen if I poked this stick into that bee hive?"
"Is that a poisonous snake?" You might ask as you stab at it with a stick.
Yet, on this occasion that I have been thinking about, it was "Wow! Cool hill! How fast can we ride down it?"
The thoughts of slope or degree, gravity or gravel do not cross your mind. It does not matter that it is 40% grade with a winding road that cars found difficult to traverse at a minor 25 miles an hour. What matters is the cool factor. The roller coaster that the Army Corp of Engineers had made just for you and your younger brother to test out with new ten speed bikes!
Nor does it even cross your mind that the top of the damn is 610 feet high above the river with the road at the bottom sitting just above said river in less then a quarter of a mile. Those notions might make you think twice and decide that the trip to the bottom was a bit much, unless you rode the brakes all the way down.
Brakes, smakes. Who cares that even Evil Kenevil would plan for days before making any attempt at riding a ten speed down as fast as you could! Never mind that little thing called a helmet or even a though of pads.
What mattered the most was beating the record of Jimmy Joe! The fact that Jimmy had missed the turn and taken the trip less traveled off the cliff and falling to the river, thus making an extremely fast ride down was not even in the equation.
In fact, the idea that Jimmy might not even exist never crossed either of our minds. Our Uncle had told us about him and it never crossed our teenage stupidity that he might have been trying to warn us from ever riding our bikes down said hill. NOOOOO! Our Uncle had told us and thus it was true!
Uncle Luke said it and Jimmy was the local legend and that made it the God's honest truth! As adults we have asked this question on numerous occasions, but in our youth we knew for sure that Jimmy was a bike god among men! Of course, Uncle Luke denies the story to this day, but I degrees.
We started out on the far side of the dam and picked up as much speed as we could. Faster and faster until we were passing cars on the dam road. My brother was fast, but I took the lead. Then I hit the hill.
What a wondrous feeling! The adrenaline shot through my veins as quickly as the road past under my wheels. I passed another car, and then another. I took the first turn and shot further down the road. Then it happened.
Have you ever been hit in the forehead by a June bug? I can attest that it hurts like hell! Yet, I never knew they flew in flocks.........
Suddenly I was pelted all about my face as bugs squished against my face. My skin stretched tight from the blistering wind! The gross factor was setting in about the time one flew in my mouth. Ever choke, hack and cough while riding a ten speed at a billion miles an hours?
Then I shot through the gravel as my front wheel threw the tiny shards into my bare legs. I knew I could not turn, because it would put me on the ground...sliding my bare legs through gravel. The only problem was that it forced me to go straight into the swimming area.
I shot across the parking area and over the wall that was a few feet high. I landed on the sand and it caused my bike to slide then catch. I found myself flying through the air catapulted by the sudden stop of the bike. I saw the bike tumble as I went out over the water.
Ever skip a stone? Yup! I skipped across the water then found myself buried in it.
As I swam back to the beach, I saw my brother slowly coming down the hill. He gently parked his bike and walked over to me.
"Couldn't wait for me?" He said.
"Nope." It was all I could muster.
Now, that I am grown, I and look back at things like this, I know why my mother thanked God, I was in bed each night.
